


Dive

by 17daysgreys



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Based on Grey's Anatomy, Surgeons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 05:33:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 89,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20371498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/17daysgreys/pseuds/17daysgreys
Summary: Arya Stark had a life in Seattle, where she worked as a trauma surgeon. However, a broken marriage leads her to move to Chicago where she falls in love with a firefighter named Gendry Waters.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as a grey's anatomy AU and now I'm changing the character names to GOT ones. Enjoy!!

_Arya_

Have you ever felt small? It’s an easy thing to think you have, but in reality many people don’t understand the magnitude of that feeling. You feel like everyone is talking over you, everyone is living their lives, moving on without you, and you’re just standing there letting the fire burn through your skin. There are many bad feelings in the world; many that make you feel like less of a person. They make you feel weak, sad, and disdainful; but feeling small is like feeling you’ve lost a part of yourself and you’re never going to be able to get it back. I’ve felt small before, I’ve felt all of its evil rushing through my veins and I refuse to let myself feel that way again and when I saw him look at her, I knew. I knew that I was done feeling inadequate. Done feeling like I’m the evil stepsister in this whole scenario. I apologized until I was blue in the face and he never, truly, accepted it. So, I guess I need to move on.

“Rhaella,” I said through the phone, “I’ll take the position in Chicago.”

“That’s great baby,” she replied through the other line, “Have you talked to Aegonabout it, I know you and him have to arrange things with Harriet.”

“No, I haven’t. I’m assuming he and I will just continue with the agreement we had before we moved in with one another. Hopefully, he’ll be okay with that.”

“Wonderful. I’ll have my assistant send over the paperwork.”

“Good. I look forward to receiving it,” Arya answered pleasantly.

“You’re going to make such a fantastic head of trauma, I knew you could do it Arya.”

“Thank you, Rhaella.”

“I’ll see you in a week, is that enough time to get everything in order?”

“Plenty. I’ll see you next Thursday morning, I already have my flight booked.”

“Do you need me to send my driver?” She asked.

“No, I’ll just take a cab.”

“Nonsense. You’ll take our driver, end of discussion,” insisted Rhaella. Arya didn’t want to argue, so she obliged to Rhaella’s insistence. Now, the only difficult part that remained was telling Jackson. She had already found an apartment, had some of her old things from storage shipped, and issued her resignation to Grey Sloan, which she had e-mailed just as she called Rhaella. Now, the only piece left to this insanely delicate puzzle was telling her ex-husband that she planned to move across country and take their daughter with her. She thought things would be different after Montana, that they were finally getting somewhere in their relationship, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was becoming more than friends with Daenerys and she had too much pride to sit around and be witness to that. So, she decided to leave, it was the best thing for her.

Arya Stark was never a prideful person, growing up on a farm in Moline, Ohio she considered herself to be as humble as they came. Her parents were working folk, her mom a teacher and her dad a farmer, so they raised her to be right and just, which meant they taught her not to take crap from anyone. It took her a long time to learn how to do that, but Jordan helped her become stronger, a fighter. So, yes she did have a bit of pride in the fact that she refused to stay and watch her husband fall in love with someone else. Watch him lock eyes and look at a new woman the way he used to look at her, the sheer thought of that breaks her heart.

“Okay, we have so much to get done today,” Arya says to herself as she grabs her suitcase off the top shelf of the closet. She had planned to hire a moving company to ship the rest of her stuff to Chicago once she got settled into her apartment, but for now she was packing a small suitcase of only her and Rhaenys’s essentials. The two of them had moved out a few weeks ago, much to Jackson’s disagreement.

_Flashback_

Arya had been on a high since Montana, she didn’t think she could ever be that happy again and with Aegon nonetheless. He had respected her in that surgery, something he had failed to do for months at Grey Sloan, and she felt seen by him. And God did it feel good. It felt like a drug that she couldn’t get enough of, and she didn’t realize how much she had missed him and needed him.

“Arya,” he started, “Why is my mother calling me about head of trauma positions for you?”

“Your mother isn’t supposed to be calling you about that, don’t worry about it Aegon” she tried to skirt around the subject. She had been applying to head of trauma departments all over the country just to dip her toe in the water, and if something came up that was worth taking she would, but she hadn’t made a definite decision.

He looked her square in the eyes, “Are you actually thinking about leaving?” He looked distressed and pained, he didn’t want her to go, but he didn’t know how to tell her that.

“Aegon I haven’t been given any offers yet. I’m just looking, don’t worry about it.”

“Arya, you’re considering moving halfway across the country. I am going to be worried about it. Besides what about Rhaenys?”

“She’ll come with me, like we originally planned. I get the school year and you get the summer.”

“I’m not giving up my daughter. Arya, you have a career here, you can find another job in Seattle,” he suggested.

“There isn’t the same opportunity here as New York or Boston and you know it, Jackson. I’m not making this decision lightly, so please don’t think that I am. You and Rhaenys are the only ones I’m considering, I need you to know that.”

“I understand that, but Arya can’t you see where I’m coming from. I mean I’ve spent the first year of my daughter’s life seeing her every single day. Waking up with her, changing her diapers, feeding her that nasty organic baby food you insist we buy. I don’t want to stop doing what we’re doing.”

“Aegon, do you like what we’re doing because you’re doing it with me and we’re being a family for Rhaenys or because you like being with our daughter.”

“What kind of a question was that?” He yelled.

“Do you want anything to do with me, romantically? Or are you in love with the idea of me?”

“I,” he stuttered, “I’m not sure.”

“Aegon” she paused, not knowing how to say this without hurting his feelings, which was the last thing she wanted, “I think it’s time for me to move out. That way, if I get a position elsewhere we can have Rhaenys better transitioned.”

“Where would you stay?”

“My old place. I never stopped the lease, plus all my furniture is still there. I could be out by the weekend.”

He didn’t know what to say, he felt like his heart had just been ripped out of his chest and that she had stomped on it, “That soon?” he inquired, “Really that soon?” he whispered under his breath.

“Is there anything for me there?” She looked at him, with heartbreak in her eyes. Here she was, right then and there letting him choose her once and for all. She loved him, she truly did. She probably would never find another man that would make her feel like he used to, and that made her not want to give up on their relationship. But there was only so much one person could reasonably take, and he was not giving. She thought things had changed after Montana, she thought maybe he was willing to start again. However, he ignored her for weeks at work, skirted around the subject whenever she mentioned it at home, and he had been flirting with Daenerys. She had enough self-respect to know when to bow out of the race for Aegon Targaryen’s heart, and this unfortunately was the time to do so.

“Of course there is, Arya,” he began, “There’s Rhaenys, your friends, the hospital,” he listed off.

“But there isn’t you,” she softly said.

“I never said that, Arya,” he angrily responded, “Why do you do this? Why do you always assume you know how I feel about you?”

“Aegon what am I supposed to think? We haven’t talked in weeks about anything besides Rhaenys, work, and whatever’s on T.V.”

“What do you want me to say? What do you so desperately need to talk about?” He spat.

“I can’t believe you just said that, God you’re so infuriating sometimes, Aegon.”

“Seriously Arya, what do you want to talk about?”

She weighed her options, she could either tell him that she wanted to talk about Montana and ask what it meant to him. Or, she could tell him nothing and hope he figures it out on his own. She pondered for a few seconds before replying, “No, Aegon there’s nothing I need to talk about. I’m going to get my stuff out tonight and you can keep Rhaenys for the night. I really think it’s best if I separate myself from you, because I can’t handle this anymore. I’m sorry,” she whispered, if she would have been any louder he would have been able to hear the tears in her voice. She turned around and left a bewildered Aegon staring at her brown curls walk away from him, completely dumbfounded by how he had landed himself in this situation again, with a broken heart.

But he did nothing to stop her from leaving. He didn’t call out her name, he didn’t tell her what he knew she wanted to hear. He wasn’t a great man, but he was an honest one and he wouldn’t try to lead her on. He loved Arya Stark, he loved everything about her right down to the ridiculous way she alphabetized the fridge, but he couldn’t get past the fact that he didn’t trust her. So yes, he was deeply and madly in love with Arya, but he couldn’t trust her not to leave him again. Just as she always did, so he let her walk away, he had gotten pretty used to it.

_End Flashback_

Arya was packing her bag, putting in some jeans and shirts as well as her hair styling products. Aegon was so surprised when he saw her natural hair when she and him were living in Jon Snow’s frat house; he made fun of her for a week over it. But that was then and this is now, so she quietly packed up her straightener and curling iron and put them in her suitcase.

She finished packing and got ready for work; she had picked up an extra shift in the E.R. for the night. She was a tad apprehensive about leaving Grey Sloan Memorial; it had become her home away from home. But, she hadn’t come to the decision to leave lightly, it took a lot of analyzing, pro and con list making, and some prayer. However, a major part of life is growth and she had done all the growing she was going to do in Seattle. She never knew how much she could grow until she had gone to Jordan and seen things first hand. Been put in situations where the only thing that mattered was saving the soldier’s life and nothing else. The adrenaline rush she received when she was operating with minimal supplies, barely any lights, and the constant fear of an attack looming underneath the surface was addicting and she craved it so much when she came back to Seattle. Quite frankly, if she hadn’t gotten pregnant she would have gone back there, it was her happy place; it was the place that allowed her to breathe again.

“Stark,” Sandor greeted her, “Can I talk to you please?” Arya took a deep breath; she knew exactly what he was talking about. He had received her resignation, which meant Aegonhad received it to. She hoped that he wasn’t still in and that he had taken Rhaenys home for the evening, because she didn’t want to deal with him. She didn’t have the energy.

“Yes chief,” she smiled, “What do you want to talk about?”

“You’re leaving us, aren’t you Stark?”

“I am,” she struggled, “But Chief, it’s not because I’m not grateful for everything you’ve done for me and that you’ve taught me. I mean, I wouldn’t even be half the surgeon I am if it weren’t for you and you don’t know how much your mentorship has meant for me. Everything you’ve done for me, I can’t begin to thank you enough, and I’m sorry that I’m leaving. If I didn’t have to go, I wouldn’t, but things are just so, well you know? They’re just so stagnant here,” she rambled.

“Arya, Arya,” Sandor soothed her as he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, “Breathe. It’s okay. Birds are supposed to fly the nest, and you’re flying the nest. I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

“Really?” she croaked, trying to hold back her tears.

“Really,” he assured, “But that doesn’t mean I won’t miss you. Honestly, I’m sure the entire hospital is going to miss you. You’re something special, Arya.”

“Thank you,” she genuinely replied, “Thank you so much.” She leaned in for a hug and felt quite happy. Sandor was one of the people she feared telling, but he had taken it surprisingly well. Maybe everyone else would too.

“Okay, now go and change into your scrubs and enjoy your second to last day in the pit,” he instructed.

“Yes, sir,” she smiled as she head off to the Attending’s lounge to change into her scrubs.

She hadn’t expected to see anyone in the lounge, seeing as it was 7:00 p.m. and most of her colleagues would bolt out of the hospital at 5:00 p.m., however, there were always the junkies who stayed well past the recommended forty hours a week.

“Stark,” Bran acknowledged.

“Bran,” she replied back, “What’s got you here so late?”

“A kid, came in earlier ate monopoly pieces. So I’m just waiting it out to see if he passes them or if he’ll need surgery.”

“You know you can have an intern do that right?”

“Oh I am. I’m an attending now, I no longer scour through poop.”

“So, you’re just waiting in here until your patient poops or doesn’t poop out monopoly pieces, instead of going home? You’re honestly a strange one, Bran,” she laughed, “I’m gonna miss that.” She didn’t realize what she had just said, but it didn’t go past Bran’s ears, he immediately popped up from his seat and looked at her with confusion.

“What do you mean, you’re gonna miss that? Are you leaving, Arya?”

“Crap,” she muttebrown under her breath, “Yeah, I gave Sandor my letter this morning, I’m leaving in a week.”

“Damn,” he said, “Where are you going?”

“Chicago. I’m going to be the head of trauma at the Northwestern Memorial Hosptial and they’re letting me run a rescue protocol throughout the Midwest, it really was an offer I couldn’t refuse,” she admitted.

“That’s, that’s amazing, Arya. Congratulations.” He came and gave her a hug, something that he never did, but he’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t going to miss Arya. She was annoying at first, so much so that when she got fired for forgetting to check that woman’s windpipe, he breathed a sigh of relief. But, Arya had a way of weaseling her way back into everyone’s life, whether they wanted her to or not, and she made other people like her. And Bran was grateful for this, for the fact that Arya Stark did more than anyone on anything. She truly is an amazing woman, an amazing mother, and most of all a kick ass surgeon.

“Thank you,” she beamed, “I really am going to miss you.”

“Don’t make me get sappy,” he wiped a tear from his face, “ But I’m going to miss you too.”

“Bran, are you crying?”

“Shut up, Arya,” he scowled.

“Oh my gosh, you were,” she laughed a bit, “Thank you Bran,” she said as she put her hands to her mouth.

“So, how is Aegon taking this? I mean, you’re moving half way across the country?”

“He doesn’t know yet,” she admitted.

“Wait, you’ve quit your job and are planning on moving to a new city and you haven’t told the father of your child yet?”

“He knew it was a possibility,” she defended herself.

“A possibility and reality are two completely different things, Arya. He’s going to freak.”

“Sort of why I’m avoiding telling him,” she said.

“Arya,” Bran scolded like a big brother, “You know that’s not a good idea.”

“Bran, I know I have to talk to him. I just don’t know how to, he and I haven’t been in a good place lately. I’ll find a time, I promise.”

“I’d just tell him before he reads his e-mail and finds that he needs to hire a new attending trauma surgeon,” Bran warned.

“He’s not in right now, so I’ll talk to him tomorrow morning when I pick up Rhaenys.”

“Arya,” Bran stated, “He’s been in his office for the past half hour, his surgery ran late and he’s been catching up on paperwork.” Arya looked like she had just seen a ghost and she felt a sudden wave of nausea come over her. She looked at Bran with nothing but fear in her eyes.

“No,” she gasped, “No, no, no.” She panicked, “I have to go and find him.”

“He probably already knows, so just be prepared for that.”

“If there is a God, he doesn’t know, not yet,” she exclaimed as she ran out of the attending’s lounge in search of her ex-husband.

Arya was making her way towards Aegon’s office, when her pager rang, _911 in the E.R._, it couldn’t have come at a worse time. So, instead of preventing him from reading the e-mail that told him in black and white that she was leaving for a position in Chicago, she had to go to the pit and save a life. She wasn’t complaining about that though, she loved the pit, she loved the rush of emergency surgery, but she was honestly going to need to have surgery from the heart failure she would encounter when the time to face Aegon comes. He’s going to be so disappointed in her, for not discussing it with him before she accepted the position, for putting their family in a less than ideal if not awkward position, and most of all for making him find out via e-mail. She couldn’t explain to him that, that was never her intention, but an angry Aegon was never a rational one, so the odds of him being willing to listen were slim to none.

“I’m here, where do you need me?” She asked Sandor who was working on a patient.

“You’re in trauma two,” he instructed, “Head on collision.”

“Got it,” she replied.

“All right what do we have?” she inquired.

“Male, 49, driver in the head on collision. He’s been going in and out of consciousness, he has some tenderness so I think there’s some bleeding in his abdomen, and his femur is broken, it was sticking through the skin when he came in,” the intern explained.

“Did you page ortho?”

“Yes, they’re on their way.”

“Also, page plastics for the bruising on his face, I want to make sure his nose isn’t broken. And Dr. Lemencloak, could you get me an ultrasound machine too, I need to check his abdomen for free fluid.”

A few minutes later Arya’s plastics and ortho consults were in her E.R. and much to her disappointment it was Aegon who answered her intern’s page.

“Dr. Stark,” he greeted her.

“Dr. Targaryen,” she calmly replied.

“What do you need me for?”

“His face hit the air bag pretty hard on impact, so I wanted to see if you could check his nose to see if it’s broken?”

“Sure,” he said, normally. Maybe he hadn’t read the e-mail, but she wasn’t holding her breath.

Five minutes later and it was determined that her patient, Jamie Lannister had a broken nose, femur, and blood in his abdomen. Meaning, he needed to get to an O.R. and fast, if he was going to live.

“Alright people, let’s move him up to the O.R.,” Arya told the rest of the room, as she grabbed the bed and started to gesture towards moving the patient.

“I’ll do my surgery another time,” Aegon suggested, “I mean, it’s only a broken nose.”

“Okay. But do you still want to scrub in, for old times sake?” She asked.

“Why not?” He smiled.

“Let’s go,” she yelled again and the team of surgeons made their way up to the O.R.

She and Aegon were in the scrub room together; it had been so long since they had actually done a surgery together. Not since Montana, she missed it, truly. She also felt quite nostalgic over the fact that this probably was going to be the last time they scrub in with one another.

“How long has it been?” he inquired

“Three months,” she replied.

“No, it hasn’t been that long? Has it?”

“Yeah,” she said, “It has been.”

“Where does time go?”

“Anywhere,” she laughed, “It just keeps moving and we can’t stop it.”

“Next time it won’t take us three months to operate together, I promise you that.”

“Yeah,” she nervously replied.

“Arya?” he asked, concerned.

“Let’s just get to this, it looks like Kevin’s ready.”

The surgery was going well, Arya was in the zone, elbow deep in the patient’s abdomen while Aegon was holding the clamp mesmerized at how efficiently she worked. Man, did she know how to command an O.R. You wouldn’t know it, just looking at her, that she was the spitfire of all spitfires, causing him to smile under his surgical mask.

“Dr. Targaryen, what’s got you so chipper?” Dr. Malone asked, he was the orthopedic surgeon fixing the patient’s femur, and new to Grey Sloan Memorial.

“Nothing, just admiring Dr. Stark’s work,” he explained.

“You won’t be able to do that for long,” Dr. Carlson, the intern, added. Arya was shocked that he would spill the beans so effortlessly, like there was nothing to it. And if she weren’t elbow deep inside this man’s body cavity she would have taken her hands and strangled him. No, that’s much too harsh, she would have ran out of that O.R. faster than you can say your morning prayers, “Dr. Clegane told us about your promotion, congratulations Dr. Stark.”

“Uh, yeah, thank you, Dr. Carlson,” she awkwardly replied.

“Dr. Carlson,” Aegon acknowledged, “What promotion did Dr. Stark get. I’d love to hear about it.”

“You don’t have to explain it to him, Dr. Carlson,” Arya warned.

“No, please, Dr. Carlson, go ahead.” His eyes were locked on Arya’s pink, floral scrub cap because she refused to look up.

“Okay?” He started, a bit confused as to why the room was beginning to fill with tension, “Dr. Clegane told us while we were waiting for Dr. Stark in the E.R. that she was leaving in a week and that we should learn as much from her as we could while she’s still here.”

“Leaving in a week, you don’t say, Dr. Carlson. Where could Dr. Stark be going?”

“Chicago,” she abrubtly answebrown, “I’m going to Chicago.”

“You’re messing with me right? You are not going to move half way across the country, Arya come on be realistic.”

“Aegon this isn’t the time nor is it the place to talk about this. We can talk later.”

“No, we’re going to talk about this now.”

“Let me do my job, Aegon and if you can’t do that you can get out of my O.R.”

“Fine. Dr. Carlson, take over for me, I have better places to be,” he passed the clamp over to the overzealous intern, “Find me as soon as you’re done.”

“You can count on it,” she gritted her teeth.

Aegon headed to his office, where he read his e-mails, the e-mails he had decided to put off until the morning because the only thing he wanted to do after the day he had was go home, turn on the basketball game, and see Rhaenys. But here he was, at 11:30 p.m. not doing any of those things; no he was in his office reading an e-mail that was sent from Sandor to all the department heads regarding the fact that Arya was leaving. There was also another one, sent to him directly from H.R. about the situation, since he owned the hospital and all they liked to keep him in the loop regarding things like this.

He stared at his computer screen, he kept reading it over and over, but he couldn’t will himself to believe it. _Dr. Arya Stark has accepted a position at Northwestern Medical Center as their new Head of Trauma and will be leaving one week from today._ Certain things make a person want to punch something and this was certainly it. He rubbed his hand over his head frustratingly and sat like an idle bee waiting for Arya to be done with her surgery.

A little while later, he heard a faint knock on the door. She looked the same, her hair was still the same brown color, her nose still curved a bit at the bottom, and those lips looks as luxurious as ever he couldn’t help but gaze at them. But the woman standing in front of him; was unrecognizable. She wasn’t the Arya Stark from their residency, the one who used to be his best friend. The person who helped him cope with the nightmares after losing their friends in the shooting. The friend who never judged him for being an Targaryen, who saw the potential in his skills regardless of his surgical pedigree. She had always been his biggest cheerleader, but he hadn’t always been hers.

So, here he was, standing at a crossroads, staring at someone he used to love. It’s probably one of the hardest things someone has to do, letting go of someone who they’re still in love with.

“Aegon” she started, “You wanted to talk, so let’s talk.”

“Yeah,” he gestured for her to take a seat.

“First of all, I never wanted you to find out this way. I really was planning on telling you myself in the morning.”

“Okay,” he sarcastically spat.

“Aegon come on. I respect you too much to do something like that to you.”

“And me finding out in the O.R. that you’re moving across the country is any better?”

“No,” she solemnly said.

“Exactly. Plus, Arya, I’m not sure if you forgot but we have a child together and I’m not planning on moving to Chicago so how do you propose we settle that?”

“Aegon I know you’re angry with me, but please I didn’t come to this decision lightly. It was really difficult; knowing that if I did this, if I followed my career like everyone else has, that I’d be hurting you in the process. That’s the last thing I wanted.”

“But it was guaranteed, Arya. You’re being so selfish.”

“Don’t you dare say that,” she hissed, “Because I’m going after a position that I’ve worked my ass off for I’m being selfish? Tell that to all of the rescue teams that I’m going to run, tell that to all of the families that aren’t going to have to bury their loved ones because of me, tell that to the research team that I’m creating dedicated to treating post warzone injuries and training for medics in the field. I am going to make a difference in Chicago, one that I can’t make here. So, you don’t get to tell me I’m being selfish, when people are going to live because of me, and that is the least selfish thing a person can be.”

He folded his hands in his lap, “You really want to go, don’t you?” He asked with a broken voice.

“There’s nothing left for me here,” she admitted, “It’s time for me to move on.”

“I don’t know what to say,” he laughed, “I mean I’ve seen you every single day for ten years, almost, and now you’re leaving. And it’s not like Jordan when I knew that you’d be back, this time you’re really leaving for good, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I think I am.”

“Harriet, what are we going to do about Harriet?” He wiped the tears that were forming from his eyes.

“I want to take her, like our agreement said. You can have summers and I have the school year.”

“Arya, that’s not fair.”

“I know, Aegon but it’s the best I can do. You can come to Chicago any time you want and she can come visit you with your mom, or I can come back. I’m not trying to take her away from you. I want you in her life. I want her to know her father and what an amazing man he is and how much he loves her. That’s the hardest part about all of this, knowing that I may take that away from her.”

“Arya,” he comforted her, “We can make this work.” He grabbed her hand; it had been so long since he had felt her bare skin against his.

“Thank you,” she gasped. They stayed in silence for a few seconds, until Arya got up to leave.

“Congratulations,” he said under his breath as she was heading at the door, but she was gone.

Five days later and it was Arya’s last shift at the hospital, so the staff decided to throw her a goodbye party.

“Stark,” Mebrownith said, “Congratulations about your new job! Even if you had to use mine as a resume booster,” she joked.

“Jon stop,” Ygritte warned, “Stark’s a great surgeon and if you weren’t so stubborn she wouldn’t have had to step in for you.”

“Thank you Dr. Wilde, and thank you Meredith,” Arya replied, “It’s going to be hard not coming into work and seeing you guys everyday.”

“We’re going to miss you Arya,” Meredith stated, “You are one of the greats.”

Arya mingled around the room a bit more; she was a bit shocked at the turn out. She didn’t realize so many people from the hospital cared this much about her to see her off.

“Stark,” Hot Pie yelled.

“Hot Pie,” she exclaimed, “I thought you were in surgery.”

“I pushed it back an hour, didn’t want to miss the biggest party of the year.”

“Come here,” she laughed as she pulled her army buddy in for a hug.

“You’ve really done it, haven’t you?”

“What’s that?”

“Accomplished your dream, running the rescue protocol program was all you could talk about in Jordan. Plus the work you’re planning on doing with the vets, you’re going to be God damn superwoman in Chicago.”

“I am aren’t I?”

“Dr. Arya Stark, M.D. and superhero. I can see it now, it’s going to go big; they’ll make it into a trilogy. But remember when you sell the rights to your story make sure it’s a good studio who gonna hire a natural surgeon,” he teased.

“Hot Pie, stop it,” she laughed.

“But seriously, Stark I’m going to miss you. You’re the reason I came to this place, I can’t believe you’re leaving it.”

“I’ll be back, you know, this is my home.”

“You better be,” he warned.”

“Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a scout.”

“Excuse me? I’ll have you know I was a girl scout for ten years.”

“Oh really? I’d pay to see that.”

“Do you want me to have my mom send you a picture of my vests and my award for highest cookie sales of my entire troop?”

“No, no. I believe you.”

“Good.”

Aegon didn’t know whether he wanted to go in and tell Arya goodbye. They hadn’t spoken much since she told him about Chicago in his office a few nights ago. He brought over Rhaenys’ essentials from his place, but other than that there was silence between them. He didn’t know how to talk to her, how to approach the subject. He knew that if he asked her not to go, then she’d probably stay, but for what? For him? Of course he wanted her to stay, but did he want her to stay for the right reasons?

“Jackson? What are you doing out here?” Daenerys wondered

“Nothing,” he awkwardly responded.

“Are you going to go in?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t need to bother you with my problems, you’ve got enough on your plate.”

“There’s always room for more, come on, let me hear them.”

“Arya’s leaving and I don’t know how I feel about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“She needs to go, I know she does. Every rational part of me is telling me to push her because this is the opportunity of a lifetime. This is everything that she’s good at, lists, organizing, running the E.R. this job is what she was made to do. But, I can’t help but think that her job here is also what she was made to do.”

“Growth is a good thing, it’s a good thing for her that’s she going, right?” Daenerys inquired.

“No, I know it is, but I don’t want her to leave. How do I tell her? She’ll just think I’m selfish, that I’m trying to take this opportunity away from her.”

“It’s Arya, I’m sure she’ll understand and want to listen to your concerns.”

“It’s not a concern, Daenerys,” he looked at her intently, “I’m still in love with her.” Daenerys didn’t know what to do with this information; the only thing she could think of was Arya telling her that Aegon had feelings for her. And the defeat she saw in Arya’s eyes, those weren’t eyes that were no longer in love, those were eyes that were choosing to let the person they love go because they loved them that much.

“Tell her,” Daenerys instructed.

“It’s too late. She’s leaving tomorrow morning. It’s too late.”

“Weren’t you the one who stood up at her wedding? And now you’re telling me that it’s too late?”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Are you in love with her as much now as you were then?”

“I don’t know; that’s the problem. You know, she and I have been through so much. We’re not those people anymore.”

“Aegon” she looked at her half brother, “She’s still willing to fight for you two if you tell her that you are. The day of the fire, I didn’t see a woman who no longer cared, I saw someone who is still very much in love with you. But you keep giving her mixed signals. So, decide, is she what you want? Is she who you truly want to be with?”

“She’s the love of my life, I don’t doubt that for a minute. But, I have to let her go,” he said slowly, not wanting the words to leave his lips, and as soon as they did Daenerys immediately grabbed him and pulled him into a hug. They never went into Arya’s goodbye party, the two of them stood in the hallway, right in view of Arya. There were a myriad of reasons why she was going to Chicago, but none were more important than the fact that Aegon had fallen in love with someone else and she refused to stay in Seattle to have a front row seat to their budding romance.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only main characters names will be changed. Just putting this out quickly.

Arya Stark was leaving Seattle today. It was bittersweet, the goodbyes, telling everyone that she had grown to know and love like family that this was the end. Sure, she intended to come back to Seattle for Rhaenys to see her father, but she didn't intend to come back for herself. This chapter of her life was closing and it was time for her to move on. There was nothing left for her in Seattle.

She heard a faint knock on her door as she was gathering the last of Rhaenys' things and when she answered it she saw a distressed looking Aegon. His shoes, which were normally perfect, had scuffs all over them like he had been on a run for hours. He normally did that when he got stressed. She stared at him a little more, he was sweaty from his run and his breaths were short and heavy.

"Arya?" he asked, "Can I come in?"

"Sure," she opened the door for him and let the very smelly man into her apartment, "I wasn't expecting you."

"I don't know why I'm here."

"Neither do I," she trailed.

"Can I see her?"

"Of course." She led him to the kitchen where Rhaenys was sitting in her height chair enjoying some blueberries.

"Hey baby girl," he cooed as he lifted her out of her seat, "Daddy's gonna miss you like crazy."

"You can come any time you want, Aegon. I really mean that."

"I know," he softly replied, "I know."

"This is just as hard for me as it is for you," Arya began.

"No offense Arya, but like hell it is. You're moving across the country and taking our daughter with you."

"Aegon, it's not like this choice was easy. I'm losing a lot too. I'm losing all of the friends I've made here, my mentors, everything in my adult life revolved around Seattle. So, this decision is affecting me too."

"But are you losing me?"

"Of course I am, Aegon. You're the hardest person to leave. Despite everything that's happened between us, I only want you to be happy and me being here isn't helping that. We don't make each other happy, not like we used to. And I can't stay here, and watch you fall for someone else, knowing that if I would have done a few things differently you'd look at me the way you'll look at her. I'm not going to stay for that," she proudly told him.

"Arya," he started but couldn't figure out what to say.

"Don't say anything. Please don't make this harder than it already is."

The two of them stared at each other, in silence, as Aegon rocked Rhaenys. He smelled her head and looked into her eyes, not knowing when the next time he was going to see Arya or Rhaenys again broke his heart. These were the two most important girls in his life, they were his family, and now they were leaving him. What on earth made him so unlovable that everyone leaves him?

"It's not enough time," he whispered.

"I know," she agreed, "I'm sorry, Aegon, but we need to go."

"Do you need a ride to the airport?"

"No, Bran is taking me. He just texted me that he's here," she said.

"Goodbye, baby girl," he cried into his daughter's head as he reluctantly handed her back to her mother.

Arya looked at him with sorrow in her eyes, "I truly am sorry Aegon. But it's time and we both know it."

"Have a safe flight," he said, "Call me when you land."

"I will."

"Well, I guess this is it."

"Yeah, I guess it is."

"Goodbye," he stood there awkwardly not knowing if he should hug her or extend his hand for a handshake, but he didn't have to make the decision. She leaned in for a hug and gripped her arms around his strong torso; he had forgotten how light she felt in his arms too.

"Goodbye," she croaked with tears in her eyes.

Aegon helped her with her bags and said goodbye to Rhaenys one more time before closing the car door on Arya and on everything he thought he wanted. Right now was his opportunity to tell her how much he loved her, how much he needed her in his life, but he couldn't. He couldn't do it. Sometimes love just isn't enough. So, he watched Bran drive away with his ex-wife and daughter just standing there like a statue letting his life happen to him.

"Is Targaryen going to be okay?" Bran wondered.

"Yeah," Arya avoided the subject, "Yeah I think he's going to be fine."

"Are you going to be?"

"I don't know, Bran. I really don't know."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. I'd rather just drive."

"Okay." He looked at his friend, who was staring out the window and crying her eyes out. She was a soft crier, so you wouldn't know she was crying if you didn't get a good look at her. But, unfortunately, for Arya her face spoke mountains and her cheeks were burning red and her cheeks were wet with tears. They flowed quietly, but they flowed. And the two of them drove in silence the rest of the way to the airport.

"This is it," he stated.

"Thank you, Bran."

"It's really no problem, you needed a ride, I was happy to oblige."

"No, Bran, _thank you_," she gripped his hand tightly.

"You're going to do amazing things, Stark. Don't doubt yourself for a second."

"I'm not," she admitted.

"Are you doubting this situation?"

"Tell me, am I doing the right thing? Is he going to come back to me or am I fool to stay here and wait?"

"I can't tell you what he's thinking Arya, because Targaryen is harder to read than a book in Swahili. But if the two of you have gone this long without him giving you any indication that he wants something more than I think it's time for you to move on," he told her reluctantly. He didn't want to break her heart; he didn't want to tell her the truth. Nothing, he had seen, had shown him that Aegon Targaryen was still invested in his relationship with Arya.

"You know, it's so weird hearing it from someone else," she laughed, "It just makes it more real."

"I'm sorry, Arya."

"Don't be sorry," she looked at him intently, "I messed up my marriage. This is on me."

"You didn't do it on purpose."

"He told me that if I went on a second tour that we'd be through, so yes I kind of did."

"He probably just said that because he was angry, I doubt he meant it."

"Bran," Arya hissed, "He divorced me, I'm quite sure he meant it."

"Still."

"It's okay, Bran. You don't have to apologize to me for the mess I created with Aegon. It's over and done with, I'm moving on," she straightened her blouse and said so continently.

"That you are." She got out of the car and he did as well, helped her grab her bags and Rhaenys, before saying, "You are one of the most incredible people I have ever met in my life, Arya. You wouldn't think it just looking at you, but you're a fighter. Give 'em Hell, okay?"

"You too, Bran." She hugged him goodbye and headed into the airport, on to the next chapter of her life.

"Goodbye, solider," he said once more as he watched her red curly ponytail move further and further away from him.

_Aegon_

This morning was probably the hardest of his life, he had to say goodbye to his daughter and Arya. It didn't seem real. He felt like it was a dream that if someone were to pinch him, in just the right place, that he'd wake up and it'd all be over. But no, this wasn't a dream, this is reality, and he has to face the fact that when he goes to work today, when he pulls into the parking lot at Grey Sloan Memorial and walks into the pit, she isn't going to be there. She'll never be there again. And that is a hard pill to swallow.

"Crap," he yelled as he dropped his cup of coffee he had made for himself. It wasn't as good as Arya's, nothing he made for himself was ever as good as what she made for him. That was just one thing he'd miss about her.

"Having a rough morning?" Daenerys asked as she shut her car door and approached him.

"How could you tell?" He laughed.

"I just figured you were, I mean you left really abruptly this morning."

"Arya's flight was really early and I had to go and say goodbye."

"How was that?"

"Rough."

"Come on," Daenerys gestured for them to go inside, "Sulking isn't going to fix the problem, let's go and get my brother a surgery."

"You're insane, you know that right?"

"I'm not. I'm trying to help you, because if you would have told her how you feel then she would still be here and you wouldn't be in this mess."

The were walking into the hospital together when Aegon said, "How does she not know? Can she not tell by the way I look at her that I think I still want her?"

"Aegon, I don't know how many people have told you this and I'm not sure how many more are going to have to tell you until you get this through that thick skull of yours, Arya isn't going to wait for you. You can't string her along like a dog with a toy promising your affection if she's good then taking it away as soon as she does something to upset you. That's wrong and you know it."

"Daenerys, you don't know what you're talking about."

"I don't?"

"No, you don't," he harshly responded.

"Then enlighten me, Aegon. I want to help you and I can't do that if you won't let me in. Please," she looked up at him with her chocolate colored eyes, "I'm here to listen if you need it."

"Not yet," he smiled as he put his arm around her and they walked into the hospital causing a few people to turn their heads. Daenerys and Aegon walking into the hospital together, his arm around her while she is looking up at him dotingly.

"Now I know why Arya left," Alys muttered.

"Shh," Jon scolded, "They'll hear you."

"I don't care," she urged.

"What the hell is going on? Daenerys told me she wasn't into Aegon, she's into Nathan."

"Then why is her arm around pretty boy?" Alys inquired.

"I don't know. I'll talk with her."

"Talk with who?" Bran asked as he approached his friends.

"Aegon, he came in with his arm around Daenerys. Aren't they like step siblings or something?" Alys wondered.

"You're kidding me right? I just dropped Arya off at the airport this morning and she asked me if she should stay or go," Bran added.

"What?" The twisted sister exclaimed, "Arya was considering not going to Chicago?"

"I told her to go."

"Why would you do such a thing?" Jon playfully smacked him upside the head.

"Because, that's why," he pointed to Daenerys and Aegon talking, "She told me at the goodbye party last night that Aegon and Daenerys had been getting close, too close. And that during the fire something clicked inside of her and she didn't want to stay here to watch the two of them become an item, so she's gone."

"Arya really left because of Aegon?" Alys wondered.

"Yes."

"Arya Stark sure has some balls," Alys laughed, "When we met her all those years ago she was as mousey as they come. Now, she's left her ex-husband, who used to be her best friend, took their child and moved half way across the country because he has a crush on someone. That's cold. And inspiring."

"No it's not Alys," Jon said, "It's awful. She's hurting Aegon and their daughter."

"Jon," Bran defended Arya, "She couldn't breathe here and you know that. You've seen her since her son died; she never truly was the same Arya again. She needed to grow."

"It doesn't make it right."

"Neither is what he did to her. He dangled the carrot in front of her face for far to long, so she walked away. Trust me, it wasn't an easy decision for her."

"I know," Jon, conceded, "I just hope Aegon will be rational. Remember when Arya went to Jordan, he was the most unbearable person to work with."

"The absolute worst," Alys chimed in.

"Let's pray he has his head on straight," Bran laughed before the three surgeons went on with their day to greet their patients in an Arya less Grey Sloan Memorial.

Robert Baratheon had just got back to Seattle after his weeklong trip with Rhaella for their anniversary. The two of them spent time in Boston, catching up, and she told him all about Arya Stark's promotion and how she had helped her get it. Plus, Rhaella had a conference in Chicago, so she had planned to meet Arya there to help her with the transition and to show her around Northwestern's complex. Richard loved Rhaella, he truly did, but sometimes he did not love her meddling.

"Good morning, Dr. Targaryen," he greeted Aegon.

"Dr. Weber," Aegon acknowledged.

"How are you holding up?"

"Why is everyone asking me that today?"

"Well Arya," he paused, "Well, Rhaella told me that Arya was moving today."

"Of course you and my mother talked about it," he scoffed.

"Well, she is my wife, and she's just so proud of Arya."

"Proud?" Aegon questioned.

"Of course, your mother got her the initial interview at Northwestern, Dr. Norwood was an old student of hers."

"My mother did this?"

"Aegon, your mother didn't do anything," Richard replied, "Arya came to her a few weeks ago and told her she was serious about leaving Seattle and if she knew anyone who was looking for trauma attending's that she'd be interested, that's all."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, Aegon. I thought you knew. I thought you and her had been discussing this."

"No," he spat, "No we hadn't been discussing this. We hadn't even been discussing anything."

"I know you're angry with her for leaving you, again."

"You can't even begin to understand. I'm angry, I'm frustrated, but I'm also hurt and confused."

"Forgive her."

"Excuse me?"

"Forgive her and forgive yourself. You're not a bad man, Aegon; you're actually a pretty great one. You love your daughter and you loved your son and a part of me likes to believe that you still love Arya, somewhere deep inside. Do you remember my wife Adele at all?"

"A bit, why?"

"Well, Arya sort of reminds me of Adele. When I was a resident at Seattle Grace, I fell in love with Lyanna Stark."

"Jon's mother," Aegon added.

"Yes. I fell in love with her, cheated on my wife for years. I never knew that Adele knew, until she told me when Jon started her internship here. I ruined my marriage and I ruined that little girl's childhood. What I did was selfish, what Arya's doing isn't selfish it's brave. She stuck by you as long as she could, but sometimes, people crack under the pressure. It's time to forgive her and yourself; it's time to let go, son. She was an amazing chapter of your life, but you'll find someone else. She may not be the love of your life, like Arya was or Adele was to me, but she'll be someone special and that's worth something."

"It's over, isn't it?"

"Every song ends, Aegon, but that's no reason not to enjoy the music." Robertsighed as he left the young surgeon, staring at the O.R. board, sans Arya Stark. It's true, what they say, you don't what you have until it's gone.

"Good morning, Dr. Targaryen," a chipper Yolanda Ulea exclaimed, "I have your coffee and your patient's chart."

"Thank you, Dr. Ulea." The two of them walked to the patient's room, Kevin Gates aged 34 suffered from severe second and third degree burns on his arms and legs due to a barbeque gone wrong.

"Hello, Mr. Gates," Aegon greeted.

"Dr. Targaryen, is it time for my surgery?" The young man inquired.

"Kevin, give the man a break, he's probably incredibly busy," his wife scolded.

"It's quite alright Mrs. Gates," he smiled before turning his attention back to Mr. Gates, "But yes, Kevin it is time for your surgery. Dr. Ulea could you read his chart?"

"Kevin Gates, aged 34, came in two days ago with severe burns, we debrided the burns in the E.R., and Dr. Stark did the initial evaluation before paging plastics. Today we're going to do a skin graft to cover the burns with healthy skin." Aegon's face cracked slightly at the mention of Arya's name.

"Dr. Targaryen, is everything alright?" Mrs. Gates asked.

"Excuse me? What?" he shuttered, "Oh, yeah, everything's fine. So, Kevin, the skin graft is quite simple. I'm going to use a split-thickness graft, so we're going to remove the top layer from your skin on your buttocks and thighs to cover up the burns. I'll see you in an hour or so to get you down to the O.R. "

"Thank you Dr. Targaryen," they both said.

"Dr. Ulea, could you get him prepped for surgery and explain the aftercare to his wife?" He instructed as he went to leave the room.

"Of course Dr. Targaryen," she replied.

"What is up with him today?" Grace asked.

"Dr. Targaryen?" Yolanda inquired.

"Yeah. Normally he's so kind and charismatic, he has this aura about him."

"Oh, the Targaryen sparkle?" the intern added.

"Are you two ladies discussing how attractive my surgeon is without me, that's completely unfair?"

"No, honey, we're not. We're just discussing that Dr. Targaryen seems a bit off today."

"Well, it may have to do with Dr. Stark," the intern said under her breath.

"Did you say Dr. Stark? The cute red head that admitted my husband."

"Yeah, that's her."

"What happened with Dr. Stark?"

"Well," the intern began, "I don't know the entire story. But, I do know that the two of them used to be married but their divorce was not amicable, so she decided to move to Chicago. She left this morning, we had this huge goodbye party for her last night and everyone showed but Dr. Targaryen. The whole hospital has placed bets on whether he'll be mopey forever, fly to Chicago within the next week, quit, or move on with someone new. My bets are on fly to Chicago, I'm a hopeless romantic."

"That sounds awful," Grace sighed, "Poor man."

"And she took their daughter too," the intern added.

"Oh dear," Kevin's wife sighed, "Should I be worried about his surgery?"

"Absolutely not, Mrs. Gates, Dr. Targaryen is strong enough to put his personal issues aside and focus on his work. Trust me, your husband is in the most capable hands in the city," she assured."

"Good," he laughed, "I wouldn't want it any other way."

"Dr. Targaryen," Dr. Warren greeted, "Looking sharp today. Am I still scrubbing in with you on Mr. Gate's?"

"Why not, it may be nice to have some extra company in the O.R. and it'll be good for you to practice for your boards. They're in Chicago this year right?"

"At the end of next month, yeah."

"And you and Wilson are flying out together?"

"Probably, and some other residents, I'm pretty sure. But why does that matter?" The fact that Arya was now in Chicago seemed to have slipped his mind.

"It doesn't," Aegon avoided the subject; "Let's just get Mr. Gates in the O.R. Dr. Ulea should have him prepped and ready by now."

"Let's move then," Ben Warren added and he and Aegon Targaryen were off to the E.R. where plastics posse 2.0 was about to kick some ass and take some names.

"Dr. Targaryen, glad to see you could make it," Kevin joked.

"Make it? I wouldn't miss this for the world," Aegon laughed.

"Dr. Targaryen," Kevin all of a sudden became quite serious, "Am I going to die?"

"Not if I can help it," Aegon promised.

"Promise me you'll tell my wife I love her if I do," and he gestured for Aegon to come closer to him and whispered something else in his ear, "Will you do that for me."

"Of course I will, but Kevin this is a routine procedure there's no need to worry. Now Dr. Olson is going to start the anesthesia, can you count down from 100 by 7s."?

"100, 93, 86, 79," and Kevin was out like a light.

"Dammit," Aegon shouted frustratingly.

"Dr. Targaryen, there wasn't anything you could have done," Ben comforted, "You couldn't have known this would happen."

"I know that Warren," Aegon said, "He had everything going for him. He's a father, what am I supposed to tell his wife, his children? I fucked up."

"No you didn't," Warren tried.

"Let's just get this over with," he suggested.

"Dr. Targaryen," Warren stopped the plastic surgery attending from going any further, "Go and take a shower, get yourself cleaned up, and take a breather. The family can wait fifteen more minutes."

"You know you sound like Mark," Aegon smiled, "He would have said something just like that, except for at the end he would have told me to get my head out of my ass."

"I would have done that too, but unfortunately you're my superior and I really enjoy learning from you," Warren joked.

"Keep it up Warren," Aegon laughed, "The ass kissing is nice, and maybe you can get me a coffee."

"In your dreams."

Aegon made his way to the attending's lounge and splashed his face with water. His eyes were bloodshot, definitely missing their usual Targaryen sparkle. His skin looked dry and lifeless, the bags under his eyes were quite predominant from his lack of sleep last night. He had spent the entire night in bed at Daenerys's place, tossing and turning, confused at what he wanted to do. Did he want to tell Arya how he felt or did he want to let her go? But as he stared in the mirror, he had a chance to really look at himself, to study the man he had become without her here. It hadn't even been a few hours and he'd already started messing up.

_Flashback_

"Do you want to get out of here?" Daenerys asked Aegon, as she pulled away from their hug.

"Yeah," he muttered, "Yeah I think I do."

"Come on, let's go," she suggested. The two of them made their way across the street to Joe's, because more than anything right now, Aegon looked like he needed a drink.

"Scotch neat for him, and a gin and tonic for me," Daenerys ordered.

"Coming right up Dr. Pierce," Joe said, "Also, it's pretty light where is everyone from the hospital?"

"There's a party going on for Dr. Stark, she's leaving tomorrow morning."

"Really?"

"Yeah, she got a position in Chicago, Head of Trauma at Northwestern Medical, it's a pretty big deal," Daenerys added a bit awkwardly, "But everyone's super proud of her at Grey Sloan."

"I'll miss her," Joe said, "She really was one of the greats."

"You'd be hard pressed to find someone who'll disagree with that statement."

"So, why isn't Aegon saying goodbye?" Joe inquired.

"I think you know the reason for that, Joe," Daenerys gave him a quirky look, communicating her intentions solely with the movement of her brow.

"Keep them coming?"

"Definitely. It's going to be a rough night for him."

After a few hours of moping and wallowing in his own sadness or anger or whatever emotion he couldn't determine he was feeling, Aegon Targaryen was piss drunk.

"Arya is the love of my life," he slurred.

"I know she is," Daenerys consoled him, trying to guide his six foot tall stumbling body to her car.

"Why do people always leave?" He asked. Daenerys didn't know how to answer him, even though he was drunk and probably wouldn't remember this in the morning; she still had no idea what to say. She and Aegon had talked about his childhood before; about how much his father's leaving had affected him growing up. How much his family's pressure had put a damper on his self-esteem. She knew every detail of Aegon's upbringing, but she herself had never struggled with family issues. Her parents had always doted on her; she never once questioned their love.

"I don't know," she managed to say.

"I saw him," he slurred again, "I saw my father in Montana and I told him off."

"Oh," was all Daenerys could get out, "How'd that go."

"It was the greatest and most stupid thing I've ever done."

"I'd say it was brave."

"If I could tell him how I felt, why can't I tell Arya how I feel?"

"You can tell her how you feel when you're no longer drunk," she instructed as she led him into her house. She helped him undress and get into her bed. She came back with a glass of water and some Tylenol, but he was already passed out face flat on the bed. Unfortunately, she'd be stuck with the couch tonight.

Aegon made his way to the waiting room with Dr. Warren, dreading the conversation that was about to take place between him and Mrs. Gates.

"Dr. Targaryen," Mrs. Gates exclaimed as the petite woman sprang up out of her chair, "How'd it go? Can I see him?"

"Mrs. Gates," he began.

"No," her hands scrambled to her mouth as she lost her breath, "No."

"I'm very sorry, but Kevin had an adverse reaction to his anesthesia. There was no way of knowing, but his heart stopped about halfway through the surgery. We did everything we could, but he told me to tell you."

"Stop it," she yelled, "I don't want to hear anything from you. You did this to him. I knew you weren't ready to do this surgery this morning, I told him that."

"Mrs. Gates I know you're very angry right now and this is very hard to process. I understand where you're coming from."

"No offense," she furiously spat, "But like Hell you do. My children just lost their father, I lost my husband, and it's all because of your incompetence," she screamed.

"Mrs. Gates," Aegon tried once more.

"Leave!" She yelled at the top of her lungs, catching the attention of everyone else in the waiting room, "Get out of my sight." And with that Aegon quickly walked away from the sobbing widow, who had collapsed into Ben's arms.

Aegon had decided to spend the rest of the morning in his office, catching up on paperwork and reading resumes for the new attending trauma surgeon. He didn't want to be doing this, but the hospital still needs to run regardless of how much he feels like he's drowning. The carousel never stops turning, we think we have time, but we don't.

"Dr. Targaryen, I have Dr. Clegane here for you," his assistant said.

"Thanks Kathy, bring him in," Aegon instructed.

Aegon got up to greet Sandor, "Dr. Clegane," he extended his hand, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Targaryen, this isn't board business. This is surgical business."

"Okay," Aegon said confused.

"You operated on Kevin Gates this morning, correct?"

"Yes."

"Well, his wife has informed me that she's planning on suing, something about Dr. Ulea telling her that you weren't in a good head space because of Arya leaving."

"Dr. Clegane if you think for a second that I went into that O.R. without being prepared you're insane."

"Did you, though, Dr. Targaryen?"

"Excuse me."

"Well you didn't come to Arya's goodbye party last night, you look like you haven't slept in days, and you smelled a bit like scotch when I saw you this morning. So, Dr. Targaryen, tell me do you have a case to defend yourself or no?"

"I feel confident in the job I did, there was no malpractice."

"Dr. Targaryen," Clegane sighed, "I'm sorry that Arya left, truly I am. I knew that this would hurt you, but you can't stop doing your job. I can try and talk with legal and see if we can stop her from suing, but it's best if you stay low for the next couple of days, until this all passes over."

"Are you really though?" Aegon gritted his teeth, "Are you really sorry that she left?"

"Of course I am Aegon, she's my student, and I don't like her being gone anymore than you do."

"But why now, why are you feeling sorry now? What about Jordan? If you wouldn't have mentioned that to her, she would never have gone and we'd still be married."

"And she'd still be suffocating," Sandor defended himself as he got up to leave, "Think about that Dr. Targaryen, it wasn't my fault that she had to get away. And it isn't my fault now.

_Arya_

Arya's flight had landed an hour behind schedule, much to her dislike. She had told Rhaella to not bother with a car to pick her and Rhaenys up, the two of them could make it to their apartment just fine. Arya had visited Chicago a few weeks back to interview for the position and to do some apartment Cleganeing. She found a nice; two bedrooms that was a ten-minute walk from the hospital and another five from the nearest elementary school, which would be perfect for when Rhaenys was older.

"There's my grandbaby," Rhaella exclaimed.

"Rhaella?" Arya asked in shock, "What are you doing here?"

"Did you really think I'd let you get to your place alone? Plus I wanted an excuse to see you."

"Rhaella, you really didn't have to."

"I know, but I wanted to. And wait until you see your place, I got it all set up for you. Your furniture arrived a few days ago and I had my interior decorator, Clarisse do some fine-tuning. It is exquisite."

Arya was annoyed, she had wanted to get everything organized she, but she knew she'd be rude if she called Rhaella out on it. Rhaella was only trying to be helpful, even if she was overstepping a bit, "That's very kind of you Rhaella, and I can't wait to see it."

The two women made their way to the car that Rhaella's driver had parked in the parking garage of the O'Hare airport, "So, how's Aegon holding up?"

"He was fine this morning, said goodbye to Rhaenys and everything."

"Well that's good. How are you holding up, dear?"

"I'm fine. I'm just excited to start this next chapter of my life."

"You're more than ready for it," Rhaella soothed her.

"Thank you."

Rhaella's phone rang, "Excuse me dear, I need to take this.

"Hello," she said, "Yes. What do you mean, Linda? Resign? No, no, he can't resign. That's absolutely ridiculous. Let me call you back, I need to speak with Reggie myself." And she hung up the phone.

"Everything okay?" Arya inquired.

"No," Rhaella sighed, "Aegon's being sued."


	3. Chapter 3

Arya Stark had dealt with first days many a time before, but this one felt quite different than the rest. There were the first days of school, which she was always excited for. They meant that she no longer had to do painstaking, physical chores on the farm; no it meant she could start learning again. Which was her favorite thing growing up; she had always been a bit of a nerd. Then the first day of high school came, it was a bit scarier than the others because it marked both when she had to start being social and start thinking about adult decisions like which college she would attend and which career she was leaning towards. But she got through that with flying colors. Then the first day of college and med school came and she still managed to survive. The hardest first day was the first day of her internship at Mercy West in Seattle. She had just moved there two days prior, having originally planned on doing an internship at the Cleveland Clinic, but after a sign from God she decided to take the leap and get out of Ohio for the first time in her life. Now, today is her first day at Northwestern Medical Center, and it's not like the others. Before she was always a guppy, the newbie, and the bottom of the food chain. Now, she's the head of an entire department and the lead researcher on veteran's projects. She's going in as a leader and the sheer thought terrifies her.

Arya Stark was never known as a person who could command a crowd, one who could get everyone to listen to her with just the sound of her voice or the way she held herself. She thought back to her Chief Resident days and how everyone, not just her friends who had trouble taking authority from even the most senior attending's, ignored her instructions. She feared that maybe the other trauma surgeons wouldn't take her seriously or maybe the other department heads would think she's too mousey, too anally organized, too Arya?

"You can do this," she says to herself in the mirror, "You've been in a warzone, you can handle a few smart alec doctors." She finished her makeup; she kept it natural with a bit of mascara and eyeliner just smudged on the top lash line. She spent a bit more time on her hair, curling her red locks with a curling wand then setting it with hairspray. She had on a black pencil skirt that hit to the knee and a white blouse; it was her first day as an apartment head so Rhaella told her to wear something professional. She reluctantly put on a pair of black heels, three inches so they would make her look put together without making her want to cut her feet off two hours later. However, she packed some sneakers in her bag, hoping she'd be able to put them on as soon as possible.

"Perfect," a satisfied Arya said. She grabbed her keys and her daughter and headed off to the start of her new life. The butterflies were already brewing in her stomach.

After dropping Rhaenys off at the daycare center, a major perk of Northwestern's campus, Arya went to go and meet Rhaella Targaryen. Her former mother-in-law was the reason she received the position in the first place. Although, Rhaella would disagree, she constantly told Arya that it was all her, but Arya's confidence wasn't that high, yet. To be honest, Arya didn't need Rhaella's help to become the first female Head of Trauma at Northwestern, she did it all on her own. From her checklist to her military service to the trial run running the general department at Grey Sloan, Arya did this all on her own.

"Good morning, Arya," Rhaella greeted, "You look very nice."

"Thank you, Rhaella."

"So, are you ready?"

Arya took a deep breath, "As I'll ever be."

"Don't be nervous, baby. You're in charge now, own it."

"I know," Arya, said, sighing a bit. She knew she was in charge, she knew that now she had the world at her fingertips in regards to Trauma surgery, but she didn't know if she was ready for all the responsibility.

"Stop thinking about him," Rhaella confused Arya's worry about being the new Head of Trauma as worry for Aegon and his legal issues back in Seattle.

"I'm not," Arya, stuttered, "I'm not thinking about him."

"He's fine, Arya. He'll be fine. I have the legal team working on it, he'll be back operating in no time."

"Wait," Arya stopped Rhaella in her tracks, "He's not operating?"

"Did he not talk to you?"

"No, Rhaella he didn't. God, that is so typical," she scoffed.

"He never was the greatest at communication," Rhaella conceded.

"Sort of why we're divorced," an angry Arya replied.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," Rhaella tried.

"It's fine. I just don't want to think about it or Seattle. It's really important for me to focus on what's in front of me and that's not Aegon. It's my new job and my new co-workers and," she paused, "This is where I belong. I'm getting my do-over and I'm not going to mess it up by pining after your son."

"Arya, is everything alright? Did Aegon do something to hurt you?"

"You mean he slept with me in Montana then ignored me for two months and now he and his step sister are getting chummy," she laughed a bit to herself, "Nope, he did nothing at all to hurt me."

"Why, I ougtha,"Rhaella said.

"Don't even bother yelling at him, Rhaella. He's allowed to see other people, we've been divorced for two years."

"Still."

"Let's just go and meet Dr. Norwood," Arya sighed, "I don't want to be late." Right now she was about to start the first day of the rest of her life, she didn't want to spend it thinking about Aegon. To her, that ship had sailed.

"Alright,"Rhaella agreed. She knew Arya was angry with her son and that she'd be angry with her for meddling, but maybe just maybe she could get those two crazy kids back together.

Dr. James Norwood was sitting in his office engulfed in a research article when he heard a knock on the door. He assumed it was Rhaella and Dr. Stark; he hadn't had the pleasure of meeting Arya just yet, but had been assured by the former Head of Trauma that she was the real deal.

"Rhaella," he exclaimed as he went in to hug his former teacher.

"James," she smiled, "How nice to see you."

"And this must be Dr. Stark, I've heard so many great things about you. Please come in and take a seat," he gestured over to his desk.

"Thank you, Dr. Norwood. I'm quite excited to start working with everyone here too."

"Everyone's so excited to meet you, you know after Peter had to move to Boston with his wife we thought we'd never find anyone as great as him and then Rhaella mentioned her daughter-in-law was looking for a job and, well it was perfect."

"Thank you," Arya awkwardly responded.

"So, Rhaella, is she worth all the money I'm paying her?" Dr. Norwood joked.

"That and more," she smiled then her phone rang, "Excuse me I have to take this call. Arya you'll be fine?"

"Yes, I'm great. Go and take it, there's definitely much more important things than showing me around the hospital."

"Okay, I'll see you tonight at dinner."

"Goodbye, Rhaella," Arya said.

"Yes, goodbye Dr. Targaryen," Dr. Norwood chimed in, "So, let's get started Arya, can I call you Arya?"

"Sure, Dr. Norwood, you can call me Arya," she smiled trying not to hide her confusion as to why he was calling her by her first name.

"James, call me James. Anyways, I have a staff meeting planned in a half an hour with all the department heads and then of course the attending's that can make it," he started, "It'll help you get acclimated to the staff and the hospital itself. You have toured with us once before, correct?"

"Yes I have."

"Perfect. I'll have Dr. Tyrell show you around a bit; she's the head of Neuro. The two of you should get along well, she also has a daughter who's a bit older than Rhaenys."

"That's nice," Arya, added.

"So, Arya why don't you tell me about yourself?"

"Sure, um," she hesitated, "Well I'm from Ohio, born and raised in Moline, actually.

"I've never heard of it."

"Trust me, no one has unless you're from there. It's that small," she laughed, "Anyways, I did my undergrad at _The_ Ohio State and then medical school at Case Western Reserve. I completed my surgical internship at Mercy West Hospital in Seattle then it merged with Seattle Grace where I finished the rest of my residency and started my fellowship."

"It says on here you have some military experience, could you elaborate?" He asked.

"Sure, yeah," she breathed in slowly. Jordan was probably her proudest achievement second to her children. It was the place where she learned how to breathe again, how to be again, but it was also the place that destroyed her marriage. So how did she portray it to a total stranger without sounding like she was in love with a memory or too fixed on what could have been if she had never gone in the first place, "I did about nine months in Jordan two years ago? I worked on the front lines, basically being the first responder to the injured soldiers. I learned so much while I was over there, it was truly awe-inspiring."

"We're so glad that you have some military experience," he beamed, "Especially for the Veteran's research."

"Thank you."

"Well, Arya, I think I know enough about you. Let's get to the staff meeting," he energetically shouted.

"Yay," she responded, slightly sarcastically.

Arya followed the bubbly young man, who couldn't have been more than five or so years older than her, down the well-lit hallway to the conference room. She knew that once she stepped through that door that her old life, as a surgeon at Seattle Grace Mercy West then Grey Sloan Memorial would cease to exist. She would no longer be the annoying, mousey, virgin Arya Stark who then became the sex crazed maniac who was in love with Aegon Targaryen to only be left by him. No longer would she be known as the woman who walked out on her fiancé, on their wedding day, in order to marry her friend who she had never really dated the same night. But, the best part of leaving Seattle was the fact that no one would look at her with pity over the loss of her son. She was a solider, and so she could soldier on and make it through the darkest chapter of her life to get to the light. No one seemed to recognize that strength, but she did.

"Why does the Chief have us do these meetings every week?" Dr. Sansa Tyrell scoffed.

"Who knows? It's annoying, that's for sure," Dr. Willas Tyrell agreed.

"Come on, it's got to be something good if he's having all the department heads here, maybe it's the new Head of Trauma," Dr. Jo Ann Rogers chimed in.

"Good morning everyone," Dr. Norwood announce, "Thank you all for taking time out of your busy schedules this morning, it won't take too long," he laughed, "But I wanted to bring all the department heads forward to meet our new Head of Trauma, Dr. Arya Stark. She's joining us all the way from Seattle and is going to be an excellent addition to the team. Dr. Stark?"

"Oh, yes," she was a bit startled that he had wanted her to speak, "My name's Dr. Arya Stark I've been an attending trauma surgeon for 3 years now. I'm very excited to run the Veteran's research program and the emergency response team, as a veteran myself it means a lot to know that a facility as big as Northwestern cares about those issues to dedicate them to me and my team," she rambled out.

"Okay, Dr. Stark, thank you," Dr. Norwood said, "So, please introduce yourselves to Dr. Stark, make her feel welcomed because we at Northwestern could not be more thrilled to have her working with us. And Dr. Tyrell, could I see you for a moment please?"

"I wonder what he wants?" She scoffed.

"Just be nice," Dr. Tyrell urged, "She looks like a guppy."

"Well, I'm a piranha," Dr. Tyrell laughed.

"Still, if you're the piranha Dr. Norwood is the shark, so it's best to do what he says and to keep that smile on your face," he teased.

"I hate you," she said under her breath.

Dr. Sansa Tyrell was well known in her field, she graduated medical school at the age of twenty-two from Harvard Med and then did her internship and residency at Mass Gen. She was a firehouse in her field, being a top researcher and the last three Alzheimer's drug trials at Northwestern and she had just turned thirty last year. She had been at Northwestern since the start of her fellowship and hadn't looked back since. Here is where she met her husband, Dr. Willas Tyrell and her best friend Dr. Jo Ann Rogers, it had become her home, but it wasn't always like that.

Sansa had a tough time adjusting to Chicago, whether it was the confusing public transport system, the lack of directions when it came to reading a map, or the fact that the people had an infatuation for mediocre sports teams, she just couldn't get into it. She missed the east coast constantly and threatened Dr. Norwood, a myriad of times, that if he didn't give her more research funding that she'd be on the next plane out to New York City and get a position at Columbia or anywhere else where her talents were going to be useful. However, she had eventually found her niche in three other doctors, Willas, Jo Ann, and Jeyne. They were inseparable and truly best friends, until Jeyne's car accident six months ago, the pediatric surgeon died on impact when a semi crossed lanes. The void of Jeyne's loss had been felt throughout the hospital since, but no one but Sansa felt it as great and she couldn't shake the feeling that Arya Stark was brought in to be Jeyne Waters's replacement.

"Dr. Norwood," Sansa greeted, "You asked to speak with me."

"Yes, I did. Dr. Tyrell, this is Dr. Stark, I was hoping you'd show her around a bit."

"I'm sorry, Dr. Norwood, I have back to back craniotomies," she tried to make up a feasible excuse.

"Nonsense, a first year fellow can handle those," he said, "There's only one first day for Dr. Stark."

"Dr. Norwood, it's not a big deal, I can manage on my own, especially if she's busy," an awkward Arya added.

"Are you busy, Dr. Tyrell?"

"Not at all," she huffed under her breath.

Arya had gotten the feeling that Sansa was not her biggest fan, but she had the slightest idea as to why. Sure she had been forced to give her a tour of the hospital, but Arya loved doing that herself, showing the new interns and residents where things were and letting them into the paradise that was the hospital. It was always refreshing to see new faces wandering the halls looking at the O.R.s with wonder and amazement, but for some reason Sansa was just short with her and clearly annoyed.

"So, Dr. Tyrell, Dr. Norwood told me you were the head of Neuro." She didn't know how to talk to this woman, so she just went with whatever information she could.

"I am," she responded shortly.

"Are you married at all?"

"Yes, Dr. Tyrell and I are married."

"That's wonderful, and he's the?" Arya asked.

"Head of Cardio. So, Dr. Stark are you married?"

"No, I'm divorced." She didn't know why she said it so calmly, it was like the words slipped off of her tongue and were suddenly in the world. She never planned on hiding her Seattle life from her new co-workers, but she at least wanted to ease into the drama that was she and Aegon.

"Oh, what happened?"

"It's a long story," Arya lied.

"And it's a big hospital, get talking," Sansa said.

"I'd rather not," Arya, stated, "It's still a bit fresh."

"Move here to get away from your ex?"

"Would you judge me if you knew the truth?"

"Dr. Stark, I'm already judging you, so no I wouldn't care much more if I knew the whole story or not," she stated bluntly.

"Then yes, I moved here to get away from my ex."

"Must've been a real bad breakup if you moved all the way from Seattle to Chicago, then again I did the same thing when I got my fellowship," she admitted.

"Really?" An intrigued Arya asked.

"Yeah, I was in love with him, we had been seeing each other since my intern year, but he was an attending. We kept our relationship under wraps, for both of our sakes, and then she came. She was pretty, intelligent, top of her class in everything she did and she was also ten years older. So, he dumped me and six months later he was engaged to her. I gave that man five years of my life, so instead of staying there and watching them be happy together I decided to come here. I thought I had lost the love of my life, but then I met Willas and I found what I never knew I was missing. So, Dr. Stark, I get where you're coming from, love makes you do crazy things but hate makes you do even crazier ones."

"He moved on," she softly said under her breath, "That's why I left."

"Well then, Arya, you should move on too. You're hot, the red-hair is a lot of guys things, and obviously you're smart you could get any guy you want in Chicago," she smiled maybe just maybe Arya would be an okay addition to her friend group.

"I think I just want to spend time with my daughter, dating really isn't my thing," Arya said.

"If you say so," she laughed before taking Arya on the rest of the tour of the hospital, and then to the cafeteria to have some much needed lunch.

"I'll go and grab us a table, if you want to get something to eat," she suggested.

"Sure, okay," Arya replied.

Sansa quickly spotted her husband, Jo Ann, and Jo Ann's wife Cassandra eating lunch together and approached them.

"Update, the new Head of Trauma isn't half bad and I guarantee you there's some drama with that one."

"Drama?" Jo Ann asked while her mouth was still full of food.

"She was married."

"So were a lot of people," Cassandra added, "I mean I was married before I met Jo Ann."

"That's different you were married to a man," Sansa added.

"Hey," Jo Ann yelled, "We don't like to talk about that."

"So, what else besides she was married, hon?" Willas wondered, "Because you're going to be hard pressed to start rumors about someone because they're divorced."

"I don't know," she scoffed, "She's just so nice and cherry there has to be something with her."

"Do you know who her ex-husband is?" Cassandra asked.

"No, but I do know she has a daughter."

Arya found the table and sat down, in the middle of a conversation that she was sure was about her.

"Hi, I'm Arya," she introduced herself.

"Hi, Arya, I'm Cassandra, this is my wife Jo Ann and this is Willas, Sansa's husband."

"Oh wow, it seems like I've infiltrated the couples table, is it always like this?"

"Typically," Sansa added, "So, Arya we were just discussing it, but who's your ex-husband?"

"Oh," Arya hesitated, knowing that Aegon's name would have a lot of weight here. Well, it had a lot of weight everywhere he went, and he loathed that fact. He had always wanted to be known as Aegon, the intelligent, well rounded, driven surgeon that he had become on his own merit. Not Aegon Targaryen, the pompous, arrogant, ass who had bought his success, "His name's Aegon," she coolly responded.

"Do you have any kids?" Cassandra innocently asked.

"Yeah, I have a daughter, Rhaenys."

"What an adorable name, how old is she? Maybe she and Alyssa can set up a play date," Willas wondered.

"She's only fifteen months," Arya said, "But I'm sure she'd love that."

"Wow, so this move must be hard on your ex-husband then," Jo Ann added.

"We're working through it," Arya politely replied, "He knew that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity so he's dealing with it as best he can."

"I can't imagine not being able to see my daughter everyday," Willas said, "I feel for the guy and I don't even know him."

"He and I are taking it day by day, besides he can come out and visit any time he wants," she defended herself.

"We're sorry," Sansa, added, "We're not trying to judge you."

"No, it's okay. I just really wanted to get away from all the drama in Seattle, so I'd like to not discuss my personal life at length," she softly said, "I have a daughter and I was married, that's all anyone needs to know."

"Okay," Jo Ann smiled, "So, Arya where are you from?" And the surgeons went on talking throughout lunch without missing a beat, and there were no more mentions of Aegon Targaryen and for that Arya was grateful.

Arya had finished lunch and felt quite satisfied with the people she had met, they weren't the strongest bonds just yet, but she could feel potential. However, she couldn't help but compare people to her friends back in Seattle. Sansa reminded her so much of Alex, with her crassness and bluntness but she was also soft hearted and cared. Whereas Willas reminded her a bit of Mark, Aegon's late mentor, he was loud and proud, but also lit up like a light when he talked about his daughter, four year old Alyssa. And then Jo Ann and Cassandra reminded her of Callie and Arizona, before the whole plane crash and amputating Arizona's leg. The way those two women interacted, how they had the ability to finish each other's sentences or to just know what the other was thinking by a simple move of an eyebrow or nod of the head, mesmerized Arya. Never in her life had she ever had that great of communication with Aegon, it honestly, had been the downfall of her marriage.

"So, your friends seem nice," Arya, said as Sansa continued on with the tour of the hospital.

"I'm sorry that they ambushed you about your ex-husband, it was sort of my idea. I'm a bit nosy."

"It's okay," Arya, admitted.

"Are you sure? Because if it was too much, you can tell me. I'd rather have you tell me than like brew up all this hatred for me and then one day you explode in the OR and a patient dies," Sansa blurted out.

"Whoa there," Arya laughed, "It's fine. Aegon and me aren't on bad terms at all; we just aren't compatible as a couple. Besides, being an Targaryen was too stressful anyways," she joked.

"Wait, you were married to Aegon Targaryen, _the_ Aegon Targaryen?"

"Uh, no I wasn't," Arya lied.

"You so totally were," exclaimed Sansa, "He's like a surgical legend."

"Please don't tell anyone," Arya begged, "I really don't need that getting out."

"Only if you tell me why you really left him."

"I didn't leave him, he divorced me."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Sansa, confessed.

"It's okay, I deserved it. I went on a second tour in Jordan and he just couldn't handle that."

"Your husband seriously divorced you because you went to war?"

"There's more to it," Arya admitted, "Oh crap, 9-1-1-, E.R.," Arya shouted.

"Third corridor, take a left, you're going to do great Dr. Stark," Dr. Tyrell responded, and like that Arya was running to her first page in Chicago. The adrenaline that she felt inside of her was brewing; she felt nothing but excited anticipation for what was waiting behind the doors of the E.R. She ran as fast as she could in her black pumps, cursing Rhaella slightly for insisting that she wear them because there'd be "no action" on her first day.

"I'm here," she announced as she reached the E.R.

"Good, Dr. Stark, let's get you some scrubs," a nurse commented, "The patient is in Trauma room 1, with Dr. Tyrell right now."

"Okay, thank you."

Arya composed herself and went into the trauma room, this was her arena, this was her starting line and she planned on playing well, "What do we have Dr. Tyrell?"

"Motorcyclist versus bus and the bus won," he commented.

"Okay, let me take a look," she said as a nurse tied a trauma gown on her, "How long has he been unconscious?"

"Since he got here. I'm thinking we need to get him into an OR stat," he added, "His breathing is irregular and crap," he yelled, "Code blue."

Arya stepped out of the way and let Dr. Tyrell handle the room; he had a way of commanding everyone around him that was mesmerizing, no wonder Sansa was in love with this man.

"Clear," he yelled before he pressed the defibrillator to the man's chest, "Good we have a rhythm, Dr. Stark would you like to join me up in the OR? Make your first day here a bit more exciting than welcome tours with my wife."

"Absolutely," she said as she hopped on the patient much to Dr. Tyrell confusion.

"What, what're you doing?"

"CPR, now let's move," she responded as the rest of the team took the patient up to the OR. A nurse took off her, painful, high heels and slipped on her tennis shoes, as she continued to press firmly against the patient's chest.

"You don't get to die today, you hear me?" She told him, "This isn't how you end it."

"Hayden, his name is Hayden," Willas added.

"Well then, Hayden," she breathed as she kept pressing into his chest, "You're not going to die. We're going to get you to the OR and fix you up. Get you good as new."

"Do you always make promises like this to your patients?" Willas asked.

"Only when I mean them," she replied, "Besides, I know he's going to live."

"And how's that?"

"Faith." Willas didn't respond, he just stared at the redheaded surgeon who had just become likable. She had balls and wasn't afraid to use them. The two of them prepped for surgery, Arya quickly got changed into scrubs and Willas discussed the procedure with the anesthesiologist.

"It's time to get this show on the road," he said as he leaned in to take the first cut, while a smiling Arya just watched completely infatuated with how this hospital ran things. It was like a well-oiled machine and she was at the head of it.

Luckily, Hayden survived the operation with flying colors, and after four hours on her feet she wanted nothing more than to see her daughter and to get home.

"You did really well in there," Willas commented, "I can tell you've had military experience."

"Thank you."

"I know you're new here and probably don't know anyone, but I'm sure Sansa would love to have you over. She's a bit hard to get to know at first, especially since Jeyne died she's been even more distant, but if you give her a chance I'm sure you'll learn to love her as much as we do. And I'm sorry about earlier, with your daughter. I didn't mean to sound so accusatory.," he babbled.

"It's okay, and I'd like to come over and have the girls meet each other," she smiled, "Besides your wife and I already talked, you don't need to convince me to like her."

"Good, that's good. Sometimes she can be really cold at first, we're working on it," he laughed, "But, we're all friends here," he said, "It's a team and we want you to feel like you're apart of it because the person I saw in there is a fantastic doctor who should be incredibly proud of themselves."

"You weren't too bad in there, yourself," she replied.

"I mean it," he said again, "Northwestern is lucky to have you. How on earth did Dr. Norwood snatch you up?"

"It took a lot of convincing."

"Well, I'm glad he took the time to do so. Have a goodnight Dr. Stark, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Night."

Arya Stark was on a bit of high from the surgery, because well see was a surgical junkie and anytime she got to be inside of an OR she felt that rush. Whenever she was in an OR time stood still, and the only thing that existed was her, her patient, and the race against the clock in order to save them. Trauma surgery, unlike cardio, was a bit messy. It meant doing whatever you could to keep the patient alive, regardless of it was the prettiest or most pristine technique. The goal was still the same with any other specialty, let your patient live, even if they have the largest scar across their chest or if their arm has to be amputated, let them live. After her first day, Arya wanted nothing more to see her daughter and tell her all about it. Although Rhaenys wouldn't understand exactly what she was saying, she'd understand Arya's joy a bit and she knew that would mean something. She unfortunately, hadn't had the chance to say 'hello' to Rhaenys all day and was dying of baby withdrawal, so seeing her baby girl would be the perfect end to the most interesting day.

"Oh I'm sorry," a tall, well built man with sandy blonde hair said as he accidentally bumped into Arya.

"It's quite alright," she said back, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"I don't think I've ever seen you here before," he began.

"No, you definitely haven't, I'm the new Head of Trauma, Dr. Arya Stark," she extended her hand.

"Gednry Waters," he took hers in his and shook it.

"So, Gednry Waters, what's a firefighter doing at a hospital daycare?"

"My wife used to work here, she passed away six months ago, but they still let me keep my son, Tom here."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, if I would've known," Arya rambled.

"Dr. Stark," he said slowly, "It's fine. Plus, I think it's a bit cute when you're nervous.

"If you think it's a bit cute, then maybe you'd find me absolutely adorable if we went on a date." Holy cow, she could not believe she had just said that, she had never once in her life been this forward with a man who was this attractive. He was everything she had ever dreamed of when she stared at her Justin Timberlake posters on her walls in high school, tall, rugged, had a bit of an edge about him, but still looked like he went to church every Sunday and knew all the words to the songs and didn't just mouth them like a maniac.

"Pick you up tomorrow night at 8?"

"Wait, are you serious?"

"You suggested it."

A mortified Arya just looked at him and said, "I guess I did," she laughed, "Sure, tomorrow night."

"It's a date."

"Wait what about the kids?" She asked.

"You have a kid?" He asked, sarcastically shocked.

"Darn, I should have told you. I mean, me coming to the daycare center at a hospital couldn't have been more clear?" She laughed.

"I don't know Arya, this is definitely a deal breaker," he teased.

"Well, I guess we'll never know how good we could have been," she suggested, "It's a real shame and I was getting excited to break in my new mattress."

"We can drop the kids off with Sansa, she takes care of Tom all the time with her little girl Alyssa, I'm sure she wouldn't mind taking care of?"

"Rhaenys, my daughter's name is Rhaenys," Arya said as she went to pick her up, "Say hi to Gednry, Rhaenys."

"Well isn't she a cutie, looks just like her mommy," he smiled as he cooed at Rhaenys who was just laughing in response.

"I think she likes you," Arya smiled.

"Babies tend to like me, I have a baby face."

"Well if babies like you that much, I wonder how much adults like you."

"Haven't heard any complaints yet."

"Good," Arya laughed.

"I'll see you tomorrow at 8:00 sharp, Dr. Stark, don't be late."

"Wouldn't count on it, bye Tom, bye Gednry," she waved goodbye to the two most adorable boys she had seen in a while.

"Bye. Dr. Stark," the small three year old said back.

"Bye, Arya," Gednry called in unison.

"Well, Rhaenys, it's looks like mommy's going on an adventure tomorrow night," Arya said to her daughter who just stared at her with a bit of a confused smile on her face. And a satisfied Arya and her daughter walked out of Northwestern Medical Center, "I think this is really going to be the start of something great," she said as she looked back at the hospital.

Rhaella Targaryen had spent the entire day on the phone with the legal team back in Seattle; unfortunately Kevin's wife was not taking Aegon's apology or the hospital's for that matter. She truly believed Aegon was at fault for the death of her husband.

"That's preposterous," Rhaella shouted on the phone, "The man was allergic to anesthesia, that wasn't Aegon's fault."

"Well, Dr. Targaryen, there isn't much more I can do. Your son is going to be on trial with the review board at the end of the week, hopefully HR can talk Mrs. Gates down, but it doesn't seem likely," Reggie said.

"This is just wonderful," Rhaella scoffed, "Tell him I'll be out and the next flight to Seattle. I have dinner with my daughter-in-law tonight, so don't bother me unless it's urgent," Rhaella demanded as she hung up on him.

Arya hadn't wanted to come to dinner with Rhaella tonight, it just sort of happened. She was truly grateful for the opportunity Rhaella had given her, but Rhaella also represented her old life and she needed a fresh start. She didn't like having to hear all about her ex-husband during drinks, but she sat there quietly only hearing bits and pieces of what was going on. Her heart went out to Aegon, it really did, but he hadn't told her about any of it. He hadn't tried to call or text once, it had only been a day, but still she thought she was still his person enough for him to tell her about this.

"So," Rhaella began, "How was your first day at Northwestern?"

"It was great," Arya, replied taking another sip of her white wine.

"Wonderful, I knew you'd like it," she smiled, "Isn't that right Rhaenys, didn't I tell you your mommy would love Chicago?"

"You did," Arya laughed.

"How were the other doctors, dear? Anyone worth mentioning?"

"I met a few good people, but it's too early to tell," Arya sighed, "No zingers just yet."

"Meet a man?" Rhaella pried.

"Rhaella," Arya practically shrieked, "It was only my first day."

"You did," she exclaimed, "Tell me about him," she insisted.

"There's nothing to tell," she played her cards very close to the chest, "He and I just have a date tomorrow night."

"Arya Stark, you dog," Rhaella laughed.

"Not in front of my daughter, Rhaella."

"Honey, it's a good thing. It's been so long since you've been on a date and between you and me women have needs and you need yours met. It'll unwind you a bit."

"I'd think I'm pretty loose, given the fact that I have a daughter," Arya said.

"You can always do more practicing," Rhaella teased and with that a mortified Arya finished the rest of her wine.

After dropping Arya and Rhaenys off at their new apartment Rhaella called Aegon on the phone.

"Hey baby," she said.

"Hi mom," he replied, "So you're coming out here tomorrow right? I told Reggie I could handle this on my own."

"You need me to come out there, baby, I can handle everything."

"Great," he annoyingly scoffed.

"Besides if I don't come out there, I won't be able to tell you all about Arya and how much she's enjoying Chicago."

Aegon didn't know what to say so he just said the first thing that came to mind, "That's great I'm really happy for her."

"Have you two been in touch at all?"

"No, I've been busy and I'm assuming she's busy to."

"She has a date tomorrow," Rhaella added, "Wouldn't get in to it too much, but she seemed excited, isn't that exciting?"

It had only been a day and she already had a date, Aegon was besides himself, he didn't know whether he needed to throw up or go lie down in a ditch and hope someone buried him in it, but he managed to get out, "That's great, I'm really happy for her." But Rhaella could hear in her son's voice that he clearly wasn't, and her heart broke just a little for him.


	4. Chapter 4

_Aegon_

Day two of Arya and Rhaenys being gone and Aegon could still feel emptiness about him. He had talked to his mother last night, regarding the court case, which unfortunately the hospital's legal team couldn't get him out of. If only it weren't for the blabbering intern, who spooked the wife and husband before the operation, he'd be in the clear. Obviously he'd still feel guilty about Kevin's death and search like a mad dog for a reason for it that he could have sensed beforehand because despite everything that he had done wrong in his life, Aegon was a damn good surgeon. One who was taught by the best, Robb Stark, and one who took every patient's needs into consideration and would fight for them. Sure his bedside manner wasn't as great as Arya's, but who's was, but he was damn good at his job and it infuriated him that someone would even entertain the idea that he wasn't.

"You look like you haven't slept in days," Stark mentioned to Aegon as he was walking into work with a cup of coffee in hand, unwilling to admit that it was his third cup with extra espresso and he still couldn't keep his eyes open.

"What do you need Stark," he groaned, "I have to get up to my office."

"Jeeze, I need this signed."

"Just give it to me."

"Are you sure you're okay, I mean with Arya leaving and everything and now the lawsuit?"

"Stark, it's fine," he groaned again. All he wanted to do was be alone, with his thoughts and the mountains of paperwork he had to go through in order to find a new trauma attending and to prove his case against the lawsuit.

"Whatever, man. I'm here to talk if you need it. Don't shut us out like you did last time."

"Last time she was coming back," he whispered under his breath.

"You could have asked her to stay, I'm not going to feel bad that you didn't do that," Bran said.

"I don't need, nor do I want your pity," he angrily spat.

"She asked if there was still hope," he mentioned, "She really did want to try again."

Aegon could feel his blood boiling, how on earth had he not known that. Well he sort of did. She had asked him point blank and he just ignored her. He was too afraid to lay everything out in the open, to tell her how he really felt. He was in love with her, that much he could determine, he never really stopped loving her. But, he couldn't trust her and how could he be in a relationship with someone he couldn't trust, that wasn't fair to either of them?

"There isn't," he asserted, "Not anymore."

"Good, that's what I told her," Bran admitted.

Aegon stopped in his tracks, "Excuse me? You did what?"

"Well," Bran defended, "You said so yourself, there's no hope, and besides you're with Daenerys now."

"I'm with who?" Aegon asked.

"Daenerys," Bran stretched her name out on his tongue, "You know the one who you've spent the past six weeks glued at the hip with."

"Her mother died," Aegon, yelled, "I was just supporting her. Trust me there is nothing more going on between us."

"Oh my God," Bran stated.

"What? Oh my God what?"

"Arya," he softly said.

"What about Arya? What does me and Daenerys supposedly being together have to do with Arya?" and as soon as those words left his lips, Bran witnessed the face crack of the century, Aegon finally realized that Arya left because she thought he was moving on with Daenerys, "She didn't think. She didn't think that me and Daenerys were a thing, did she?" He panicked.

"Dude, of course she did. The whole hospital did."

Aegon could feel his stomach turning in knots, "I'm such an idiot."

"Bingo," Bran agreed.

"Shut up Stark," he groaned before leaving the pediatric surgeon.

Aegon was currently on recommended suspension, meaning he couldn't perform any surgeries. He was basically an intern for the foreseeable future, only able to check on his current patients post-ops and of course emergent patients because he was one of the only capable plastic surgeons the hospital had. So, in order to fill his time he had thrown himself into Targaryen business, much to his displeasure. His first order of business was to find a new trauma attending, to replace Arya. He didn't want to see someone else run her E.R., he didn't want to watch someone else command a group of guppy interns like she did, he didn't want any of it. No, all he wanted was to have her back home, waking up late on a Sunday morning next to him in bed, with his arms around her and his head nestled in her hair smelling her strawberry scented shampoo.

"Dr. Targaryen," Sandor knocked on the door, "I have some budget reports for you," he said.

"Great, I'll take them," he agreed.

"I talked to legal, they should have this thing sorted out by the end of the week. The wife is just grieving so she's trying to pin the blame on you, but we know that you did everything correctly."

"I know that."

"I'm sorry if you think we questioned your abilities as a doctor, Targaryen, that was never the intention."

"It's fine. I've got plenty on my plate."

"Did you have a chance to look at the candidates for Arya's replacement?"

"I'm doing that now," he replied.

"Good, because I've interviewed three of them and you're supposed to meet with one of them today. She's the best by far, so I'm sending her your way for approval, do you have time in your schedule?"

"I should. My mother's coming to work on foundation business at 4:00, so I'll make time before then."

"Show her the budgets, we seem to be a bit shorter than last year," Sandor mentioned, "Not as many investors as we would have hoped."

"Trust me, she'll come up with ideas to fix that," Aegon moaned, "She is my mother."

"Well, let me know what you two think of."

"Will do."

"You're doing alright, though?" Sandor asked.

"Dr. Clegane," Aegon got serious, "It's only the second day, my breakdown isn't scheduled for another week and a half," he sarcastically spat, "I'm doing fine. Arya's gone. It's okay."

"Good. Well let me know if you ever need anything," Sandor offered.

"Thank you."

Sandor Clegane left Aegon alone in his office to read the resumes of the three potential Arya replacements. He refused to call them anything but that, because that's what they were, replacements. He put on his Spotify running playlist because it normally got him in the mood, so while Jay-Z's greatest hits album was playing he was reading over Connor Donaldson's resume. He was from California, graduated med school from Stanford, wanted to transfer because his wife's family was from Seattle.

"Too cookie cutter," Aegon said to himself. Connor had an impressive resume, but so did everyone else who applied to Snow Sloan Memorial. They all went to amazing, recognizable schools, they were tops in their fields, but something was always missing. There was rarely personality or zest to someone's resume, and those who had it, those who would learn Swahili for a patient in order to make her feel more comfortable in a foreign country belonged at Snow Sloan Memorial. Those who put their name on fourteen research studies that resulted in nothing didn't.

Then there was Noel Everson, a well-respected researcher from Tulane who really didn't have much experience running an E.R. His mind raced a bit though, thinking about how he could have gone to Tulane and maybe worked with her. But then again, if he would have done that he wouldn't have fallen in love with Arya, married her, and had children with her. Then again, he wouldn't have had to feel the most pain he's ever felt in his entire life.

"She isn't going to work," he moaned, glad that Sandor had already weeded these two out of the way. He needed someone who was organized and determined, but who was also willing to learn and adapt to how things work at Snow Sloan. People lie on their resumes all the time saying they're adaptable or they're daring or they're not afraid to take risks, but most people, if they truly looked at themselves and were honest with who they are, would never change. It's the hardest for most people, to master change that is. However, for a trauma surgeon, if they can't change their thinking on a dime, then they have no business being a trauma surgeon or even a surgeon for that matter.

"Dr. Targaryen," his receptionist said over his intercom, "I have Jennifer here."

"Send her in," he replied.

Jennifer Brown walked into Aegon's office and immediately she took him aback. She had long blonde hair that was styled in a half up half down with the ends curled. She wore a black suit, with a tight fitting pencil skirt that hugged each and every one of her curves. Aegon was a man and he couldn't help but ogle at her a bit. He didn't want her, he didn't want anybody right now, but he was still a man and he could admit that she was an attractive woman. Nowhere near as attractive as Arya. He was easy on the eyes with his razor sharp cheekbones and tight pecks; nearly every girl gawked at him practically worshiping the ground he walked on. However, Arya was the only girl who didn't jump to her death based on his siren call. Like the sailors from the Odyssey she tied herself to the ship and resisted every single urge to jump to him, to crash into the rocky sea beneath her into a bottomless pit of nothingness.

And Aegon noticed her; he noticed her awkwardness and her hesitations. The way she held her red notebook so tightly to her chest because it acted like armor for her, but she didn't really need it. He had no interest in the women who threw themselves at him without even speaking to him, who saw his body or his family name as sure signs he would be a good fuck buddy, maybe even a boyfriend they could drag around like a dog on a leash.

He wanted a woman with substance, a woman who could stand on her own two feet, who didn't need a knight in shining armor, but one who would welcome one. A woman who believed in intelligence and honor, someone who would travel to Venice with him and ride in the gondolas and appreciate the history of that beautiful, fish smelling city so much more than shopping. Arya didn't care about how he looked or what his inheritance would be. She didn't care at all and maybe that's why Aegon missed her so badly, he wanted to kiss her sultry lips, he wanted to lift her up and carry her on his shoulders, he wanted to go to the movies with her and get kicked out for laughing too much. And then they would spend the next hour in the theatre lobby plotting out a much better ending to the film while sharing a cone of blue moon ice cream. He wanted to go back to when everything was fine between them, and it was only the two of them with the rest of the world at their feet. "Me and you" they used to say to each other, now it was "Me. And You."

"Dr. Targaryen?" She interrupted his daydreaming.

"Oh yes, I'm sorry."

"That's quite alright," she smiled, "It happens to the best of us."

"So," he coughed to clear his throat, "I see you're from Virginia. Did you do your residency there?"

"Yes I did, at Inova."

"And you worked under Dr. Yates, correct."

"That's correct," she replied with a smile plastered on her face.

"Okay," he cleared his throat again, "Do you have any E.R. experience, because that'll be critical. The former trauma attending ran it."

"Dr. Clegane didn't mention that, I just assumed the Head of Trauma would run the E.R. But, I'm more than capable of doing such if it's required of me."

"It'll be required," he coldly responded.

"I'm up for the challenge," she smiled.

"Okay. Dr. Clegane's informed you about the position details, correct?"

"Yes."

"Good," he awkwardly replied, "Well I'm just the numbers guy so I'm just here to double check that everything looks right. What brings you to Seattle?"

"Just wanted a change of scenery," she admitted, "Things got a bit boring back home."

"Well you can trust me on this, things are never boring here."

"That's good to know," she laughed, "I mean how could they be when the staff is as attractive as ya'll are," she teased with a bit of a southern twang in her voice.

Aegon laughed awkwardly before replying, "Ms. Brown, I think I have everything I need, you'll make a wonderful addition to our staff," he pleasantly said.

"Dr. Targaryen," she leaned in a bit closer to him, "Does that door lock?"

He gulped as the attractive blonde woman stared at him intently from the other side of his desk.

Rhaella Targaryen felt quite jet lagged after spending what felt like the better part of the last week on the Targaryen private jet. Although it was a private jet, it didn't mean it went through the air any faster than a regular airplane. She would have preferred to stay in Chicago a bit longer with Arya, to help her get acclimated to Northwestern. She had no doubt in her mind that Arya would thrive in the new environment, hell the woman went to war and came back in one piece, Chicago would be a walk in the park. But, her baby boy needed her and her manipulative ways to get him out of his legal troubles. Rhaella had no doubt of her son's innocence, but some people are just too incompetent to communicate that to the patient. If she had her way, she would have fired the entire legal department at Snow Sloan Memorial because if they couldn't prove her son was not guilty of malpractice on such an open and shut case how could they prove something that was actually difficult?

"Aegon," she exclaimed as she caught him coming out of an on call room, "Aren't those for interns and people who?" She eyed him a bit, looking him up and down.

"Mom," he responded.

"Can we go to your office now or do you need time to freshen up?"

"I was only sleeping, no one's in there if that's what your thinking," he defended.

"You're a grown man, I wouldn't judge you baby."

"Mom," he groaned. Aegon Targaryen loved his mother but sometimes she acted more like one of his guy friends from college tallying the score of the number of women he had managed to do it with. She loved talking about it, it was like she was a sex addict and now that she and Weber were married she was having sex all the time and wouldn't let anyone forget it.

"Fine baby, let's just get to your office," she dropped the subject knowing full well that Aegon was only sleeping in there but she loved teasing him, regardless.

The two walked in a pleasant silence the five minutes it took to get to Aegon's office, he opened the door for his mom and politely pulled out the chair for her, "There you are," he said.

"Thank you," she replied, "So, let's get down to business."

"Let's."

"Have you hired the new trauma attending?"

"We have a front runner, her name's Jennifer Brown, from Virginia."

"That's nice," Rhaella smiled, "We should have Arya look over her file, she's probably the best one to tell if she'll make a good fit here. Let me call her."

"Mom, that's not necessary. Sandor interviewed her already, he thinks she's a good fit and so do I."

"Well it wouldn't hurt to get another opinion."

"No," he raised his voice and clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles turned white, "No," his voice got a bit softer and broken.

"Okay," she let go, not wanting to upset him any further.

"Dr. Clegane brought over the budgets, they're not looking good," Aegon decided to turn the subject around.

"Not to worry about, I'll take a look at them and then the board will decide what to do. The Harper Targaryen Foundation Gala is in three weeks; they'll probably do some fundraising there. We could have it in Seattle this year, that way more investors will be interested in Snow Sloan. Mass Gen and the other Targaryen Hospitals have more money than they know what to do with, so it'll be good to get their wallets to open out here."

"I'll start planning it," he said, "Three weeks from today."

"Yes," she said, "Are you doing okay?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" He groaned.

"Well because I know you and I know you've had a rough week, but I'm working on it. The lawsuit should be fixed by the end of the week."

"I know that," he spat back.

"You let her go," Rhaella admitted, "You can't hold on to things that aren't yours forever, honey."

"It's more complicated than you think."

"Really? Because she told me that you and her were intimate then you ignored her for weeks on end. Why on earth would you do that?"

"I was confused, alright?" He yelled, "I didn't know how to approach her. I love her so much that it scares me. I'm so afraid that if I tell her how I really feel she'll walk away. She won't trust me not to hurt her again, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I was too much of a coward to tell my ex-wife that being with her was the best I've felt about myself in months, that talking to her is the highlight of every single day, that being without her right now is killing me. I feel like I'm drowning and it's only been two days and she's moving on with someone new. And the worst part is, I can't even fault her for it. I'd move on from me, if I were she, I wouldn't wait around for someone to jerk me around. Someone who constantly belittles them and doesn't appreciate who they are, God you don't know the feeling of letting someone amazing like her pass you by. Because I messed up, I didn't tell her I love her and I really should have," and finally the dam that was holding Aegon's feelings inside broke.

"Here's what we're gonna do," she informed him, "You're supposed to see Rhaenys in a week right?"

"Yeah," he replied.

"Well, when you go and see her talk to Arya about coming to the gala. It'll be the perfect place for you to tell her how you feel."

He breathed in heavily, realizing that his mother was probably right, as she always was when it came to things like this, "Okay," he agreed, "I'll ask her."

"Good," she replied, "Now, let's go and get this meeting over with. I don't want you out of the O.R. any longer than you have to be."

After his meeting with his mother, Aegon felt more than prepared to talk with legal and Mrs. Gates. He felt for her, he truly did. Losing patients wasn't just a nix on his statistics; it was a real loss that he rarely shook off like it was nothing. Mark taught him well, and so did the rest of the attending's who taught him along the way, our patients are people who need to be treated with respect and dignity. Aegon always looked at his patients as people, not procedures, not possible research articles, but as husbands and wives, fathers, mothers, children; he looked at them for what they would become after he was finished operating on them and who they were before.

Kevin Gates was a remarkable man, from the first moment Aegon met him he had grown a liking to him. He was funny, charming, and most of all he kept Aegon on his toes. Aegon kept going it over and over in his head, why would Kevin die? He knew, logically, that Kevin was allergic to anesthesia and his body just had a really negative reaction to it. But when he thought about it more holistically, he still didn't understand why Kevin had to die. He was a good man, an honest man, a father, and a husband. He had people who were depending on him. And something felt wrong in the universe, that a man as good as Kevin died because he wanted to grill some burgers for his family because the weather was so good there wasn't an excuse in the world to not bring out the grill.

"Good evening Dr. Targaryen," a man with a buzz haircut and a blue suit said to him.

"Good evening," he replied.

"I'm Frank Nelson, Mrs. Gate's legal representation."

Aegon politely acknowledged this, as he took a seat next to his mother and Reggie, the legal representation at Snow Sloan. Aegon didn't know Reggie that well, but he knew that his mother adored him. She practically begged him to pack up his life in Boston and move to Seattle when the Harper Targaryen Foundation bought the hospital. However, Aegon didn't feel much confidence in Reggie Moss, the man kept fidgeting with his tie and Aegon could have sworn he saw a line of sweat forming around his hairline.

"You don't need to say anything," his mother told him, "Let legal handle this. You're only here as a formality."

Aegon didn't respond, he just sat there with his hands folded in his lap listening to two attorney's discuss whether or not he was a competent surgeon. Whether he had intentionally killed the patient.

"Dr. Targaryen?" interrupted Frank Nelson, "What is your side of the story?"

"Could you repeat the question?"

The elderly man groaned under his breath, "As I said before, Dr. Targaryen, could you describe your morning that day?"

Aegon looked over at Reggie, asking with his eyes if he could respond, not seeing a sign that he couldn't Aegon said, "I got up as I normally do, said goodbye to my ex-wife and daughter, and came to work. There really wasn't anything that out of the ordinary about that morning."

"You said your ex-wife left?"

"She moved to Chicago, got a promotion," Aegon shortly replied.

"Has that affected your work at all?"

"No."

"Dr. Ulea would have argued otherwise," Frank mentioned, "She told Mrs. Gates that you were not yourself and that the hospital was placing bets on the status of your relationship."

"I can assure you that I was in a pristine state of mind when I operated on Kevin," Aegon defended himself again, but this time he looked into Mrs. Gates eyes with his own, "I truly am sorry. There was nothing I could have done to prevent it. But please, don't take away my ability to save someone else, because if you go through with this I will never be able to prevent someone else from feeling the pain that you feel right now."

"How do you know how I'm feeling?" she asked, blotting under her eyes with a tissue, "Your husband isn't dead."

"My wife doesn't have to be dead for me to feel alone, for me to miss her just like you'll always miss your husband."

"You can't begin to understand loss, how am I supposed to raise two children on my own? Their father is supposed to teach them how to drive stick, he's supposed to take them on college tours, he supposed to be outside grilling tonight because it's such a beautiful night. He would've loved tonight," she sighed, "But he's gone," she whispered under her breath.

"We can't make them all stay," he said, "It doesn't matter how good the patient is, Kevin was," he paused, "Sometimes it doesn't make any sense. Why your husband died. Why my son died. Why my wife left. There are so many things that we can't control and I'm sorry for that, I truly am," he looked at her one last time and got up from his chair, "I think we're done here. There's nothing more I need to say."

"Aegon," Rhaella called, reaching her hand out towards her son's.

"Not now," he replied coldly, and left the room

A few days had passed and luckily Rhaella had scared the legal team at Snow Sloan Memorial so much that they worked overtime to prove Aegon's innocence. Unfortunately, someone had to be held accountable for the death of Mr. Gates and that was Dr. Ulea. She'll make a good surgeon, eventually, at some other hospital but her time in Seattle has come to an end. If she had kept her mouth shut then none of this would have happened. Plus, to add salt to the wound, Rhaella was out for blood and needed to blame someone, so she forced Dr. Ulea to pack her up her things and vacate the premises.

"What's going on bro?" Daenerys asked jokingly as she was walking out of the hospital and spotted her stepbrother doing the same.

"Nothing," he replied, "How was your day."

"I had this insane patient, she was insisting that I sing the entire Purple Rain album during her operation or she wouldn't survive. She told me she had a dream about it, so obviously it was true," Daenerys groaned.

"Did you?" Aegon wondered.

"Did I what?" Daenerys asked innocently.

"Sing Prince during her surgery?"

"I played it and I may have sung along, but you'll have to pay a few scrub nurses a lot of money to prove it," Daenerys laughed.

"I have money," he joked, "More than I know what to do with. Was it Carol or Lisa today Plus I'd pay so much to see a video of you singing 'When doves cry.'"

"I am not telling you," she gasped.

"I'll just wait for you to pull into the parking lot one morning, because you and I both know you can't resist jamming in your car," he teased.

Daenerys's face turned beat red, "No, no I don't," she lied, "I have never come into work blasting 80's hits and singing along to them like I'm at drunk karaoke."

"Sure you have, I actually think it's kind of adorable," he laughed.

"You do?"

"Yeah," he admitted, "Besides it sure as hell beats me trying to rap to some old Nas."

"God I remember that, you're so bad at it," she said.

"Don't remind me," he groaned.

"Come on, let's go get a drink. You look like you've had a long day."

"You don't know how much I need that right now," he replied following Daenerys out of Snow Sloan Memorial to Joe's.

Joe's was pretty busy, it was a Friday night after all and unfortunately for Aegon everyone he knew was there. At a table in the back of the bar sat Alys, Jon, and Bran, and despite everything that told him otherwise he and Daenerys went over to sit by them. She had insisted that it'd be rude if they just ignored them so he groaned a bit, but accepted that she was probably right. That was the annoying thing about Daenerys, the fact that she was right more often than not. She never was too greedy about it either, honestly she was quite innocent, she always felt weird about stepping on other people's feet or adding her opinion into things. She was Arya, but with a bit more confidence, and Aegon felt slightly attracted to that facet of her.

"Hi you guys," she greeted warmly.

"Hi Daenerys," Jon smiled, "Aegon."

"Mer," he acknowledged. Daenerys proceeded to take a seat next to her sister and said, "Whiskey coke?"

"Sure, I'll go grab it, Stark wanna come with me?"

"What are you a girl?" Bran joked.

"Come on," Aegon groaned.

"Coming," he laughed, "Sorry Mer but I gotta hold Targaryen's pantie's for him.

"Have fun," she laughed.

"Don't forget my tequila," Alys chimed in.

"Wouldn't dream of it Karstark," Bran barked.

After the men had gathered up the women's drinks as well as their own they returned to the table.

"Oh thank God," Daenerys gasped, "I don't know how much longer I would have lasted in that conversation without alcohol."

"Glad I could be of service," Aegon joked as he took a sip of his classy scotch. Aegon wasn't really a drinker, he didn't know everything there was to know about which valley the wine should come from or which type of grain he proffered in his liquor, but he knew scotch. It was a simple drink, kind of like himself, it did the job of getting him drunk while still earning respect from the bartender who was pouring it.

"So, Targaryen, how's being back in the O.R.?" Alys pried; she loved herself a bit of hospital gossip and drew to it like a moth to a flame, especially when it wasn't centered on her or Jon.

"It's been good, did a rhinoplasty today," he answered.

"Dr. Aegon Targaryen, saving lives one nose job at a time," she laughed in response.

"Hey," he groaned, "Giving people confidence is just as important," he rebutted.

"I'm only messing with you," she admitted, "So, is it true that the elusive Harper Targaryen Gala is going to be in Seattle this year."

"It's true."

"What?" Jon asked, shocked.

"Yeah," Aegon groaned, "And I'm the one stuck planning it. Besides the two of you would have known if you'd bother to attend the board meeting I held yesterday."

"I had surgery," Jon defended.

"Sure," Aegon rolled his eyes, "And you too Karstark? Surgery?"

"Uh, yeah," she quickly took another sip of her tequila.

"Are you excited about it?" Daenerys innocently asked, "I mean a real life gala, it's going to be so fun."

"Yeah, Aegon, isn't a real life gala going to be the greatest?" Stark teased.

"Not when you've been going to them for years, they really lose their luster."

"Come on, they've got to be magical. All those surgeons in one room, the donors, the ice sculptors," Daenerys beamed.

"If you like it so much, why don't you help him plan it?" Alys mentioned.

Daenerys's face turned red and she took a huge gulp of her drink, she could tell that Alys and Mer were making fun of her, based on their giggles and teasing tone. She'd been teased quite frequently as a child, she pinned it on her squeaky voice and the fact that she had skipped two grades in elementary school. Anyways, she never really learned how to be social, especially not with people like Mer and Alys who were so dark and twisty you'd need a flashlight just to see their faces. So, Daenerys always exuded positivity, because why give them something to hate, and anyone who hates a happy person is just weird.

So with a genuine smile on her face and a bit of pep in her tone Daenerys replied, "I'd love that," she turned to Aegon who was just looking down at the table not wanting to talk about foundation business, "Would you like me to help with it?"

To be honest, Aegon didn't want to call his mother and ask her which table settings would be the most appropriate or which desert would compliment the entrée the best, so Daenerys offering her help was a godsend, "Yeah," he said, "I could use your help."

"Good, then it's settled. I'll help Aegon with the gala."

"That sounds like a date," Alys cooed.

"Hush," Jon swatted at Alys's hand, "It's not a date. Daenerys's seeing Nathan, aren't you Daenerys?"

Daenerys blushed for what felt like the eighth time that evening, "Yeah, he and I are seeing each other, Mer," she said with a poignant tone.

"Good, I just wouldn't want him to get any ideas," she replied.

"Oh for the love of God," Aegon groaned, "I'm not into Daenerys."

"And I'm not into Aegon," she exclaimed, "He's my step-brother, we're friends nothing more."

"Okay," Alys groaned and the five of them finished their drinks in silence and headed home for the night.

The weekend finally rolled around and instead of spending the day outside running or going sneaker shopping, Aegon was stuck organizing for the gala. His mother had most of it done, such as the venue, the guest list, and invitations, but she had insisted that he put a Seattle spin on it. What kind of a theme is Seattle? Water? Seahawks? Aegon thought of himself as somewhat stylish, but this was completely out of his wheelhouse.

Daenerys was buzzing with excitement to start planning the gala with Aegon. He had told her at work yesterday that they needed to have everything picked out by the end of the day because they were already on a time crunch with the gala being two weeks from Saturday and his going to see Arya next week also made it difficult. But, Daenerys Pierce loved a challenge so when she woke up this morning she put an extra shot of espresso in her coffee and headed over to Aegon's house to start planning.

"Morning," she cheerily said as a groggy Aegon opened the door. He was wearing sweats and looked like he was nursing a hangover, especially since he'd forgotten to shave.

"insisted," he groaned. He liked Daenerys, he really did, but why on earth did she have to be so chipper at 8:00 in the morning. He'd already had three cups of coffee, but those didn't match the energy she was putting out.

"You ready to get started?"

"As I'll ever be."

"Great," she exclaimed, "Well I brought over some theme options and I figured you and I could drive to the venue a bit later to check it out and get décor planned. I called them yesterday and they said they already have a catering service so we won't need to worry about that," she babbled.

"Wait, we're not trying food? That was going to be the best part," he playfully moaned.

"I'll feed you lunch if you're going to be that big of a baby about it."

Aegon's face just lit up with a smile and his eyes regained a bit of their sparkle since Arya left, "Making or buying?"

"Oh definitely buying."

"I'm not complaining."

"And then we need to get your suit, your mother insisted that I go with you," she said, slightly embarrassed.

"Oh really?" He asked, arching his eyebrow.

"I really don't have to, it's only if you need a second opinion," she nervously replied.

"I definitely think I'll need a second opinion."

"Are you making fun of me?"

"Maybe," he toyed.

"Fine," she moaned, "Let's just get going."

"After you," he laughed, feeling quite excited about the day he had planned with his sister Daenerys.


	5. Chapter 5

Arya Stark was on cloud nine after her most amazing first day ever. The first day of college she called her mom at the end of it crying her eyes out over the fact that she didn't know anyone and that the campus was too big. The first day of her internship in Seattle she also called her mom crying over the fact that she didn't know anyone and that she didn't belong in a big city like Seattle and she wanted nothing more than to come home. Her mother, Karen, had convinced her to try and stick it out because she was Arya Stark and Stark's didn't quit. But after her first day at Northwestern Medical Center, Arya didn't feel the need to call her mom. She didn't know if it was because she'd grown up or if it was because there was no reason to call her mom and cry about how awful her day was, because it was the opposite of awful, it was wonderful.

She had met some amazing people who had taken her under their wing, without a bit of hesitation at first but that was to be expected. She had also met an amazing man who made her laugh and feel true butterflies in her stomach over the thought of going out to dinner with him tonight. Arya Stark had never been the girl to ask a guy out on a date, so forward like she had with Gendry, but then again most guys weren't as easy to talk to as he was. There was something safe about him, but not safe in a boring way, safe in an inviting way. Safe in a way where she could imagine him and her having two more kids, going to Church on Sunday, and laughing and throwing food at one another while trying to cook dinner at night. For the entire night she kept fantasying about Gendry, about what his interests were, what his relationship with his family was like, if he believed in God or not? All these things kept her up last night, tossing and turning in her bed, with a foolish looking grin plastered on her face.

"Good morning baby girl," she cooed to her daughter as she pulled her out of her crib that was placed in the corner of Arya's room. She didn't want to put Rhaenys in her own room just yet, besides Arya loved having her daughter sleep in the same room as her. They had both left everything they knew, so it was comforting to have her close by, even if she was sleeping.

Her daughter made an indiscernible noise; she had recently turned one and had only begun talking a bit. She remembered when Rhaenys had said her first word, she had practically pummeled over Tomson to get her phone to record Rhaenys saying 'mama', she needed physical proof that this was her first word despite how much he had been training her to say 'dada'.

"Oh, looks like someone has a stinky diaper," she said as she went to place Rhaenys on the changing table to change her. Normally Tomson would have handled this in the morning, he had claimed that it was their father daughter bonding time and Arya didn't really argue over not having to deal with Rhaenys's poopy diapers. But now she was on her own, every poppy diaper, every accident, every bad dream, those were all her responsibility. To say she was scared was an understatement. She had always considered herself a single mom, mainly because she and Tomson were divorced. But, she never had to live as a single mom. Her baby's father was always there, willing to give a hand much more than most husband's, he was completely invested in their little girl's life.

Arya was wiping Rhaenys's bum with a baby wipe as she started to talk to her daughter, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry that I'm not strong enough to be around daddy right now," she sighed, but Rhaenys only looked at her with her big blue green eyes, exactly like her father's, with confusion. Arya felt a bit ridiculous for opening up to her one year old, who couldn't even begin to understand the magnitude of what Arya had done, but before she could even think about it any further her phone went off. It was her calendar reminder that Tomson was visiting in two weeks, she assumed he would have cancelled it due to the legal issues he's facing, but apparently he had just reconfirmed and e-mailed the flight details to his mother, who had forwarded them to Arya.

"Of course he didn't send them to me himself," she scoffed, a bit annoyed at Tomson. The two of them were not really on the best of terms, she didn't know how to talk to him. What was she supposed to say? And apology wouldn't cover it, "Hey Tomson, I'm sorry I moved to Chicago with your daughter and didn't ask you your opinion on it." A person cannot start a conversation like that, so she decided it was best not to. Besides, it had only been a few days, it's not like she was purposefully avoiding him. She simply told herself that she needed to get settled in her new apartment, meet her co-workers, get the lay of the land of the new hospital. But in reality, she needed to form the foundation of her life here in Chicago, and that was a life that did not involve Tomson Avery.

An hour later and Arya and Rhaenys were out the door, walking to the hospital. She loved the fact that she could walk to the hospital, being as she loved the fresh air of the outdoors even if there were concrete skyscrapers as far as the eye could see. She vowed that she would take Rhaenys to Moline when she got a bit older, because she needed to see what real stars looked like. Arya liked the hustle and bustle of city life, but there was something about the country charm and sitting out on the back of your best friend's pick up truck with a beer in your hand looking up at the stars and just thinking about your life, while also panicking a bit inside because you're afraid your parents will notice the two bottles of beer missing from their six pack. If Moline had a hospital that would offer her the opportunities that Northwestern Medical Center did, she'd be back there in a heartbeat. But they didn't, they were too small a town, and as much as Arya missed the quiet serenity of Moline she knew she had outgrown it. She had officially become a big fish in a small pond, and now she was ready to swim with the big dogs, alone.

Arya had made her way up to the day care, a bit earlier than she had expected, she made a mental note that she could leave the house ten minutes later and still be on time to work, "Good morning, Jean," she beamed. Jean was the child development specialist, who ran the daycare, she was a grad student studying for her PhD at Northwestern and had glowing reviews from everyone Catherine had talked to. Catherine had searched high and low for the best daycares in the city, but she settled with Arya's idea of using the hospital daycare once she ran an extensive background check on their staff. Arya only cared that her daughter would be safe and nearby, but Catherine was Catherine and she went above a beyond on everything. Arya had to pretend to drive into a tunnel the other day, because Catherine wouldn't stop hounding her about preschools on the second day she had arrived in Chicago with her one-year-old daughter.

"Good morning, Dr. Stark, and hello Rhaenys, do you remember me?" The young blonde cooed.

Rhaenys instinctively tucked her head into Arya's chest, avoiding eye contact with the stranger, "I'm sorry about this," Arya sighed, "Normally she's fine with being dropped off at daycare."

"It's okay, it's probably because it's a new environment. Why don't you come inside and we'll transition her," Jean suggested.

"Okay," Arya agreed.

A few minutes later and Rhaenys wouldn't have known Arya was there even if she were to stand right in front of her daughter, which made Arya's heart break just a little.

"It happens to the best of us," a man said from behind her, causing her to jump and squeal like a mouse.

He exuded a bit of laughter, and without even turning around she knew it was Gendry, she had imagined how his laugh would sound, but this had exceeded all her expectations. It was low, but strong, but fun. It sounded like a laugh that was used often and she needed that right now.

"You scared me," she playfully complained as she turned around to face the strapping firefighter who was dropping his son Tom off before work, "Hi Tom," she smiled as she bent down to say hi to the little boy who had glasses that were attached to a strap around his head. It was honestly the most adorable thing she had ever seen; besides anything Rhaenys had ever done in her life.

"We're sorry we snuck up on you," he played back. Before he could even hug Tom goodbye, the little boy was out for the races and started playing with blocks in the corner.

"He really likes this place, doesn't he?" Arya asked.

"Well, we still come here twice a week, but he has preschool the other days, it's a bit out of the way but it reminds him of Jeyne so I make the drive."

"You're a really great father," she said.

"How would you know that, you only met me last night?" He asked her with an inquisitive look in his eyes.

"I don't need to know someone for a long time to know they're a good person. You clearly care about your son, anyone who looks at you can tell that you hold that little boy with the highest regard."

"I could say the same about you and Rhaenys," he replied.

"Yeah, I guess you could," she sighed.

"Is something the matter?" He asked.

"Yes and no."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yes and no."

"You're really not giving me much to go off of," he laughed awkwardly, "I know I can have a difficult time reading women, but you're making it pretty damned near impossible," he teased. By this time they were out of the daycare, having said goodbye to their children, or more so said goodbye to children who ignored them, and were walking in the halls towards the exit so Gendry could leave for work.

"Well," she began, "I just met you and I don't want to burden you with my baggage. Because it's a lot of baggage," she sighed.

"I can handle a heavier load than you think, you're looking at a widower here," he teased once again.

"See, how do you do that?" She asked.

"Do what?" He asked, genuinely confused at what she was getting at.

"Make light of everything. Your life sounds like Hell, no offense, I just can't understand why you're so positive."

He turned and looked at her square in the eye, "I can either sit down and cry over what happened, spend the rest of my days going over every detail of that day, kill myself over what I can't change, or I can be the man I was before the accident. The one who is happy, carefree, and loves my son with all of my heart. Jeyne wouldn't have wanted me to mope around and be unhappy, that would be doing a disservice to her. So, I made a vow to be as positive as possible when she died, to look at everything like the glass was half full, but trust me, Arya," he paused, "It takes a lot of effort."

"That's amazing," she said, "That you'd do that for your wife and son."

"And for myself, don't forget myself," he stated, "I still am a bit selfish," he checked his watch, "Crap, I'm late for work. Are we still on for tonight?" He looked at her with a bit of worry in his eyes, like he had just assumed they had a date and she was only kidding. He had his hands in his pockets and he was rocking back and forth on his heels, Arya kind of enjoyed torturing him for the couple seconds it took her to respond without being an eager beaver.

"Absolutely, I'll see you at 8:00," she smiled.

"Good, I'll be here."

"Good, have a good day at work, Gendry," she pleasantly said.

"Go on and save lives Dr. Stark," he bantered back.

"Oh I plan on it," she laughed as the strapping firefighter with the sandy blonde hair and the six foot- one figure walked out of the building with a smile plastered from ear to ear, perfectly matching the one she had on her face.

As soon as Arya turned around, Sansa was staring right at her, and if Arya wasn't careful she was positive she would have spilled her black espresso all over her. Arya didn't normally like getting coffee from the coffee carts, but she had forgotten her coffee maker in Seattle and didn't have to time to go and pick one up before work started. So, she figured it wouldn't kill her to buy coffee at work until the weekend when she had time to go to the store and find one she liked.

"Were you just talking to Gendry Waters?" Sansa asked.

"Yeah, we met at the daycare last night, we're going out tonight," she replied nonchalantly.

"Oh really? Look at you go, first day and you already got yourself a date?"

"It's nothing really, he seems really nice and his son is adorable."

"Yeah, Tom is such a cutie pie," Sansa beamed, "I remember when he was born, Jeyne was in labor for twenty hours, wouldn't let the rest of the hospital staff forget it. Everything she did, 'I was in labor for twenty hours', it got exhausting," Sansa laughed at the memory of her dead best friend.

"So, I take it you know Gendry pretty well then?" Arya inquired.

"His wife was my best friend," Sansa stated, plainly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear about what happened. If you're not comfortable with me going out with him, I'll call and cancel. I wouldn't want to do anything to make you feel uncomfortable."

"Are you going to hurt Gendry?"

"I don't intend on it."

"Are you willing to love that little boy, just like you love your daughter?"

"I only met him last night, but of course if things got more serious I'd love him equally. But, I haven't thought that far ahead." Arya felt like Sansa, right now, which she understood was interrogating her. Gendry was her dead best friend's husband, there was bound to be a defensive side to her.

"Then you have my blessing, but if you hurt him, mark my words," she threatened.

"I hear you loud and clear," Arya tried to fan the flames a bit, the subject of this conversation already took her aback, she didn't needs threats to be involved.

"Arya, you know I'm just messing with you," Sansa laughed.

"Oh, good," she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well if you want to know, you're the first date Gendry's gone on since Jeyne died, so he must think you're something special."

"I hope so," Arya beamed; she could feel her cheeks turning a bit red.

"Oh my God," Sansa stopped them in their tracks, "You really actually like him don't you?"

"Yeah I do," she smiled, "He's just so refreshing, and funny, and confident, and hot," Arya said.

"Yeah he is."

"Oh that reminds me, would you and Willas be able to take Rhaenys for a few hours tonight? I'll repay the favor any time you need me to."

"We'd be delighted to," Sansa replied, "And Arya don't worry about it. We all like to help each other out here, typically on Friday nights one attending babysits like eight kids while the others go out for drinks with their spouses or do whatever. It's like the after hours day care, and it's typically at my house because my husband finds it much more enjoyable to stay home and watch cartoons with a bunch of kids under the age of ten," she smiled, "That's what I get for marrying a 6 foot 2 child."

"I never would have suspected Willas to be like that," Arya added.

"Are you kidding me? You should see him with Alyssa. She had never once asked him to play tea party, it just wasn't her thing, and she was definitely more into Barbie's when she was younger. So, my heartbroken husband, and I use that term seriously, bought himself a full sized princess dress, makeup, and wig to invite her to a princess tea party because he needed to have one with her. I didn't know whether to laugh at how ridiculous he looked or cry at how sweet the gesture was, even if it did have selfish motives."

"That's hilarious, I could never imagine Tomson doing anything like that. He loves Rhaenys, but he's more concerned with getting her into a Celtics jersey and keeping her awake during the games than anything. Last year during the sueprbowl, Rhaenys was supposed to be napping, but he insisted on waking a sleeping baby so she could see the last drive of the game. I swear I had never smacked him so hard, it took me three hours to get her to bed that night." As much as Tomson annoyed her at times, Arya loved living with Tomson and their daughter, just the thought brought tears to her eyes.

"God, what men will do for their daughters," Sansa said.

"Those little girls do not have the slightest idea of how much power they have over them," Arya added.

"Oh, trust me, Alyssa does. She milks her puppy dog eyes with Willas so much, I'm sure he's already set up a car fund for her and she's barely four years old."

"We'll see if Rhaenys does the same thing with Tomson."

"Speaking of, do you two have some sort of arrangement? You know with you being here and he being in Seattle?"

"For now, Rhaenys's with me because she's still nursing, but when she's older we're going to switch weekends and he'll have her for the summer. It's all very amicable."

"Are you sure about that?" Sansa asked, she didn't want to pry too hard into Arya's life, seeing as she had only met her yesterday, but she felt like Arya was a bit of a lost puppy who needed some guidance.

"I've been gone a little less than a week, so I'm not sure how it's going to work when Rhaenys gets a bit older, but for now it's working. I'm taking it a day at a time."

"I know it's not my place," Sansa began, "And please don't be mad that I'm saying this, "But I know Willas would be heartbroken if he had to spend any time away from Alyssa, I wouldn't be surprised if Tomson were feeling the same."

Sansa had never met Tomson, she didn't know him at all, and yet she said exactly what Arya was thinking, "Trust me, I know. I didn't do this to hurt him, but no matter which way I look at it, I'm the selfish one and he's the victim. And I can't really argue with it."

"You're not a bad person, Arya, you're just in a complicated situation."

"Isn't that the truth," she laughed before parting ways from her friend and making her way to the lab. Today she was going to meet the members of her Veteran's project and she was absolutely elated to be starting on it. This project was the very reason she left Seattle, the nail in the coffin, so to speak of the life she had created over there.

Arya had been anticipating her new lab all last night; she had trouble sleeping she was so excited about it. Dr. Norwood had told her bits and pieces about the equipment that was in it, but he had said there wasn't much to it yet. He explained that the lab would be filled with the proper machines and tools that she needed to work on her project, whatever it was the she wanted to do, and that she had no budget. The fact that they had given her free reigns on this was mind boggling, and she felt like a kid in a candy shop when she opened the door to her lab and saw three young residents sitting at a lab table. It felt a bit weird to not start her day in the E.R., but now as the leader of the department she had to trust that the other attendings could handle it for today, she had promised herself she'd be back there tomorrow.

"Hello," she said.

"Dr. Stark," a chipper Indian girl said, "Good morning."

"Morning, Doctor?"

"Dr. Shashad," she replied, "Mindy Shashad."

The two doctors sitting next to her also introduced themselves as Dr. Liam Brown and Dr. Timothy Harding, both looked like they had just graduated medical school, but Arya was assured by Dr. Norwood that they were all fifth year residents who were specializing in trauma.

"So, Dr. Stark, what is this secret project you're working on?"

"I, really don't know," she admitted, "It's going to be dealing with vets, but other than that I'm not sure. That's why you three are here, we're going to do some brainstorming."

After a few hours of throwing ideas around with each other, the four of them had come up with a game plan, they were going to study the integrated-delivery-of-care approach to improve Patient Outcomes, Safety, Well-Being, after orthopedic trauma. Arya had come up with the idea, mentioning how many amputations there were in the field due to IEDs, and the trauma aspect came from her memories of her best friend, Arizona. It took Arizona a long time to get back on her feet, literally and figuratively, and she wasn't in a combat zone.

"Brilliant idea, Dr. Stark," Dr. Brown said.

"Thank you," she replied, "Now, who's a good ortho fellow?" She wondered out loud.

"Dr. Hamilton is fantastic," Mindy chimed in, "She's the one you'll want to work with."

"Well then, let's get her on board," Arya smiled as she left the room to go and find Dr. Hamilton and convince her that this was the project of her career.

Arya had not expected to find Jo Ann, Sansa's good friend who she had met yesterday to be Dr. Hamilton. She knew she had forgotten to ask her name, but now it made it a bit easier to woo her onto team trauma.

"Dr. Hamilton," Arya called from down the hall trying to get her attention.

"Dr. Stark?" She asked.

"Are you busy? I'd really like to speak with you."

"Sure, what is it?" She asked, while simultaneously locking her I-Pad.

"I'm doing a research project for Vets as you know, and well we've decided on doing an ortho approach, would you like to be on the project with me? Your name would be in the publications, it would be as much your research trial as mine," said.

"I'd love to, but my schedule is so packed and Cassandra wants me home more often," her voice trailed a bit.

"Is there any way I can convince you?"

"Give me your prompt and I'll look it over and have a talk with Cassandra. I'm not saying no and I'm not saying yes," she said.

Arya giddily handed her the prompt they had written out, it was a bit rough around the edges, but Arya believed that it would convince the "Ortho God of Chicago" to join her little project.

"I promise it won't disappoint," Arya said.

"I doubt it will," the orthopedic surgeon replied, "Come on Dr. Stark walk with me, I'm starving and you look like you've been cooped up in the lab all day, let's get lunch. You're buying and I may just say yes on the spot," she joked.

"I'd buy you a new car if you say yes," Arya laughed, being slightly serious about the offer, she could simply add it to the expense of the project, but quickly scratched that idea from her mind.

"The car I have is just fine, Arya, it's really time that I want."

"Doesn't everyone?" Arya added as the two of them walked into the pretty packed cafeteria. They went their separate ways while ordering their food then made their way to a table in the corner where they began eating and discussing the project.

"So, what makes this project so special? I mean, I can read your prompt and get the jest of what you're trying to study, but it doesn't show me your passion. So, why are you so passionate about this?"

"Veterans," Arya stated.

"Oh, that's right, Dr. Norwood said you were a Veteran, you honestly wouldn't know it just looking at you."

"Thank you," Arya, replied.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way, oh I'm sorry," she said, "Cassandra's always saying I put my foot in my mouth. I mean, I picture soldiers as these big strapping men and well you're not a big strapping man."

"Don't worry, I didn't take any offense to it," Arya said. It was sort of nice to not be the resident babbler, Jo Ann actually may be a bit worse than her.

"Good, so what was your tour like?"

"It was like coming up for fresh air," Arya said so quickly she hadn't really realized what she had said. She didn't really want to tell everyone about Samuel and how his death led her to go on tour and how that had ruined her marriage and then she and Tomson had sex and accidentally got pregnant with their daughter. The story was beyond complicated, it was soap opera worthy.

"How so?" Jo Ann asked as she stuffed some lettuce into her mouth.

"Have you ever felt like you're drowning? Like everything around you is too much?"

"Sometimes," Jo Ann admitted.

"Well, I went through the hardest time of my life before I left for Jordan, and when I got there I felt free. The only thing, as far as the eye could see was sand and sun. No hospital bed, no tests, no doctors giving me sympathetic looks. It was a mourner's paradise."

"What did you do there?" Jo Ann asked, knowing that Arya had just confessed a huge part of herself, but she didn't know her well enough to pry into the details. She'd find them out eventually if Arya wanted to tell her, but from what she could gather, it was pretty serious.

"I was a field medic, so basically any injuries that occurred we fixed. There was nothing like it, for my training as a trauma surgeon, working under than pressure with no supplies and knowing that the person lying on your table is a hero. Most people we treat, they're good people, but when you have a solider who willingly left his family to fight for our country, it just made it a bit more serious for me. Every guy I lost felt like a personal blow to me, they really don't exaggerate; the men and women who are out there fighting really do become a family. I mean me and some of the other doctors got so close, they were like my brothers."

"You're making a war zone sound pretty intriguing," Jo Ann smiled.

"Trust me it wasn't all rosy, there was a real danger being there. I remember one day there was an explosion at our camp. I was on the phone with my husband when it happened and I tried not to be scared, because I knew he was going mental with me being so far away, he had never wanted me to go," she added under her breath but Jo Ann heard her loud and clear, "That was probably the scariest thing about being there. They actually sent us all back to the states, but I didn't feel finished with Jordan, so I went on another tour."

"You went on two tours?" Jo Ann asked surprised.

"Yeah."

"Would you do a third?"

"I would have if I didn't get pregnant, and now I have Rhaenys so I don't think I could ever leave her to do another one. Plus, God forbid anything happen to me. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I left Tomson to raise her alone."

"Makes sense," she replied, "I can't imagine how'd I'd survive if anything happened to Cassandra.

"Jo Ann, I thought we were going to have lunch at 1:00," Cassandra interrupted their conversation.

"I'm sorry, honey, I ran into Arya and she wanted to pick my brain about a project, that is sounding more and more interesting by the minute," she added, "And I got hungry. I'll let you have my dessert," she wagered with her wife. They reminded Arya a lot of Callie and Arizona when they were annoyingly cute and touchy.

Cassandra sat down to join them, "So, Arya, what's this research project that you're trying to convince my wife to do?"

"Well, it's about the fact that there is currently a lack of comparative efficacy research to determine which delivery approach produces greater improvements in the outcomes that are most desired by patients, specifically, functional QOL and emotional well-being. The proposed research will directly compare these delivery-of-care approaches and measure the patient-reported outcomes that are important to patients," Arya pleasantly replied.

"Sounds like pretty important stuff," Cassandra added.

"What sounds like important stuff?" Willas asked as he also took a seat at their table, with a sub in one hand and a diet coke in the other.

"The research project Arya's trying to convince me to do," Jo Ann smiled.

"Research project, huh?"

"Yeah, it was a part of my contract, I get to run a Veteran's specific research project as well as a field rescue team, but since there aren't any disasters yet I don't get to work on that."

"Knock on wood," Willas said.

"Huh?" Arya asked, perplexed.

"This is Chicago, Stark, there are plenty of disasters, just you wait," Willas added.

"Doubt there'd be anymore than Seattle," she laughed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cassandra asked.

"Where do I even begin, first there was the bomb in the hospital, luckily I was doing my residency at Mercy West at the time, then the hospital shooting, then the super storm. I'm pretty sure each one of my friends and I had a near death experience in that city."

"Wait, you're from Seattle Grace? _The_ Seattle Grace?" Jo Ann wondered.

"That's the place."

"That place is legendary for being a cesspool of bad luck, no wonder you left."

"That was definitely a factor," Arya laughed, awkwardly. Arya and her newfound friends kept eating their lunch and discussing their upcoming procedures and plans for the weekend since it was Friday, after all. Luckily Sansa had joined them a few minutes ago, she ran in there panting because she didn't want to miss the chocolate cake like she had yesterday. She spent ten minutes ripping a resident a new one because they messed up the central line, which made her late for cake. Arya thought it was pretty amusing that such a petite woman was so obsessed with chocolate case, but everyone does have his or her vices.

"So, Arya do you have any plans for the weekend?" Willas asked, after he had delved in for five minutes on how excited he was to take Alyssa to the zoo on Saturday.

"Yes she does," Sansa, answered for her, "She has a date with Gendry tonight. So, we're watching little Rhaenys"

"No way," Willas exclaimed his eyes going wide and his tone getting so loud that a few people from the table next to them turned their heads.

"You're going out with Gendry? How'd that happen?" Jo Ann added.

"He and I met at day care last night, we're just gonna get a quick bite to eat. It's casual," Arya, stressed. Sure, she thought Gendry was attractive and funny and the wheels in her brain were definitely turning regarding a possible future with him. But she had just moved to Chicago, just truly separated herself from her ex, and he had only lost his wife six months ago. She didn't want to build it up to be something more in her head, because she didn't know if she was ready to deal with heartbreak again, not yet anyway. So, she told herself, she ran it through her head like a mantra, that this was only a casual, "get to know you" type deal.

"There's nothing casual about Gendry Abbott taking a woman out on a date," Willas said, "You guys remember when he first asked Jeyne out?"

"Oh yeah, he took her on that river tour around the city. She came back the next day practically in tears saying that he was the man she was going to marry," Sansa stated.

"Really?" Arya replied, with clear uncertainty in her voice.

"God, they were one of those epic love stories," Jo Ann smiled, thinking about her late friend. Jeyne was the type of woman that everyone loved. She always had a kind thing to say about everyone. Every patient adored her and everyone wanted to be her friend. Not to mention she was the most spectacular mom to Tom, knitting his onesies, researching for hours over which formula was best for him, every detail she could control she did. It also helped that she was madly in love with her husband and he was madly in love with her, "They were like two kids in a candy shop, never fought, and were always entertained and in awe of one another."

"Sounds like a tough act to follow," Arya said.

"Oh no, Arya," Jo Ann explained, "I didn't mean it like that. It's just that it's hard to imagine Gendry with anyone besides Jeyne, he was her soul mate."

"I understand. There were couples in Seattle like that," Arya sighed, "Some people just fit together."

"But it doesn't mean that someone else can't also fit, right?" Sansa stressed, eyeing her friend. She had just met Arya, but she liked her. Sansa was a good judge of character and if she didn't like a person she made sure they knew it. But there was something about the redheaded Trauma surgeon, maybe it was because her specialty was trauma and she was the least stereotypical trauma surgeon Sansa had ever met? However, there was just a way that Arya held herself, she was confident without being cocky. Kind without being a pushover. Real without revealing too much of herself, too soon. Sansa couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was about Arya Stark, but she didn't have a doubt in her mind that this was the woman that was going to make Gendry whole again.

"Absolutely," Willas replied, "Besides, Gendry's a lucky man to be going out with a woman like you."

"Thank you, Willas," Arya laughed.

"Any time," he stated, "So, what time are we picking the little bugger up from daycare?"

"I'm meeting Gendry at 8:00, so I'll meet you two in the daycare around 7:45. And then, I'm sure we'll be done by 10:30, if that's not too late?"

"You don't need us to keep her overnight?" Sansa asked.

"No, that won't be necessary."

"Okay," and Sansa took a large gulp from her drink, having a gut feeling that she would be keeping Rhaenys overnight after all.


	6. Chapter 6

Arya had been buzzing around the hospital all day since lunch, trying to keep her mind occupied before her date. She was both excited and nervous for it. It was only a casual dinner at a casual restaurant, she had made a point to text Gendry to ask what to wear and he told her the jeans she had on earlier were perfect. Her heart melted over the fact that he had remembered such a small detail about her.

The E.R. wasn't too busy, seeing as it was a Friday afternoon and Arya had assumed, like Seattle, the big cases didn't start until the evening when everyone started to get a bit of alcohol in their systems and tensions started to flare or common sense was thrown out the window. She went down to the E.R. to look for something to occupy her hands other than paperwork to start her research, and to her surprise there was one surgical case down there. She couldn't have been more elated, until she saw who the patient was. A young girl, with a gunshot wound to the abdomen was being wheeled into the emergency room.

"Dr. Stark," a nurse stated, "Are you going to run point on this one?"

Arya looked at the resident who clearly was already on the case and gave her a sympathetic look before saying, "Yes I am. What do we have?"

"Samira Lewis, age 6, shot in a drive by while she was jump roping in her front yard," the nurse replied as the resident went to leave.

"Dr. Brown," Arya said, "You can stay, I'm going to need an extra hand with this," she encouraged. She liked Liam, he had a bit of spunk to his personality, plus he was on her research team so she didn't want him to think she was a total shark who just comes into the E.R. and steals patients because she now has the ability to pull the ultimate rank, Head of Trauma. Man, did that title feel good? And boy was it earned.

"Of course Dr. Stark, I'll stay," the young gentleman replied. He had told Arya that he grew up in Chicago in a pretty rough neighborhood. She had thought it was important to get to know her team, and he was certainly the one with the most tragic backstory. His mother was a single mother, unfortunately his father had died during the Gulf War when he was only four years old; hence why he wanted to work on a Veteran's project. They didn't have a lot of money, so he worked his way through school on a basketball scholarship and then worked nights at a local Chili's all through medical school. He was a fighter, exactly like a Stark.

"I can't believe someone would do this to this little girl," Arya exclaimed.

"It happens all the time," Liam sighed.

The little girl was quiet on the table, she was still conscious but wasn't screaming. She was definitely scared, but due to the adrenaline that was pumping through her veins she was unable to feel the full extent of her injuries, and for that Arya was grateful. She couldn't help but imagine if Rhaenys were in this situation. This little girl wasn't involved in gangs, she wasn't at a shooting range, and hell she wasn't even playing with a gun in her parents' house that accidentally fired. This little girl was simply playing in her front yard, something most kids do, and some asshole shot her, for no good reason at all.

"Samira," Arya bent down to the little girl's face, so she could talk to her more one on one, "We got this, we're going to make you all better." Before looking up from the little girl Arya asked the nurse, "Who brought her in?"

She simply shook her head no and the nurse responded for her, "The babysitter brought her in, the parents have been called, but they're not here yet."

"Okay," Arya replied, "Well let's just get started, Dr. Brown what do we do first?"

"ABCDEs," he replied, "First we need to check her airway, breathing, and circulation."

"Very good." The went to work, checking each of those boxes, everything was in working order except for the fact that there was a bullet lodged in Samira's abdomen. The doctors then worked together to evaluate 'D' disability, or her level of consciousness and lastly, 'E' exposure or the location of the wound. Everything was running smoothly and they definitely felt like they had a good handle on the situation and baring any complications would be able to save Samira.

"Now what, Dr. Brown?" Arya asked.

"Now we need to do a complete head-t-o-toe physical examination and inspect her anatomic landmarks. So, we'll start my palpitating the abdomen to check for tympany, dullness to percussion, bowel sounds, and or distention; and a digital rectal and genitourinary evaluation."

"Good, what are our immediate goals with these tests?" To check for hypotension, tachycardia, and low or high respiratory rate," he replied confidently. Liam was definitely a forced to be reckoned with, after completing his undergrad at Brown in three years and then going on to medical school at Harvard Med he certainly had a good head on his shoulders.

The doctors were continuing their evaluation and diagnosis of Samira when they heard a shrieking scream come from the E.R.

"My daughter, where's my daughter," a woman cried, clearly she was Samira's mother.

"Ma'am," a nurse tried to console her, "The doctors are working on her now. They'll be out as soon as they can to give you updates on her condition."

"Her condition? What are you talking about? My daughter was shot, what kind of condition could she be in?"

Arya's heart broke for the mother. On her table wasn't just a little girl, it was a little girl, her mother and father. Because if Arya failed to save her life, she knew all to well that her mother would die a bit too.

"Alright," she said getting her mind off of Samuel, "I need an abdominal radiography in the anterior-posterior and lateral view and then let's order an abdominal CT scan."

"On it," the nurse stated.

"She's gonna make it, right?" Liam asked, suddenly his tough doctor exterior had faded and he showed true concern for the little girl on the table.

"We're going to do everything we can," Arya, replied trying to maintain the faith.

While Liam performed the abdominal radiography, Arya left the room to go and speak with Samira's mother. It wasn't hard to spot her, she was the one impatiently tapping her finger on the armrest of the chair and bouncing her feet with anticipation. Her face looked wet with the tears she had so obviously been crying and her mascara was all over her cheeks. Arya didn't judge the mother at all, because she knew if Rhaenys had even received a cut she'd be a ball of emotions.

"Mrs. Lewis?" Arya approached the woman, who immediately bounced out of her seat.

"Are you the doctor on my daughter's case? What's going on, no one's telling me anything?"

"Yes I am. Mrs. Lewis, your daughter was shot in the abdomen, right now she's stable but we're doing some tests on her. She's awake, but very groggy since we've given her morphine for the pain. She's most likely going to need surgery."

"Oh my God," the woman gasped, "How did this happen?" The babysitter, who had brought Samira in was sitting next to Mrs. Lewis and could barely look at her. Arya could see that the young girl, who couldn't have been older than sixteen or seventeen felt completely responsible for the incident.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Lewis," the teenager cried, "I didn't mean, I mean she always plays in the front yard and I went inside to grab us some water. I," she croaked on the last sentence.

"Marissa," Mrs. Lewis cooed, "I don't blame you at all," the worried mother replied, "It wasn't your fault," she then took the sobbing teenager into her arms and held her for a few seconds while Arya stood there and watched. This mother had nothing but love in her heart, and Arya admired her for it.

"Can I see her?" Mrs. Lewis asked.

Arya thought for a second before replying, "Yes, we're bringing her up to CT in a few minutes so I'll let you come in." It was unconventional to let a patient's family into the trauma room, but Samira was stable and Arya had a terrible gut feeling that if she didn't let her mother sees her that she'd never be able to say goodbye to her daughter.

As Arya let her into the room, Mrs. Lewis immediately dropped her purse and her hands covered her mouth, "Baby girl," she cried before practically running to her daughter's side. She grabbed her hand and said, "It's alright baby, mama's right here and daddy's on his way. You're in good hands and Doctor Stark is going to make sure that you make it through with flying colors."

"Dr. Stark?" Dr. Brown asked, eyeing her awkwardly, "There isn't much time."

"There's always time for a mother to talk to her child, this could be the last time. Beside manner, 101," she replied.

"I love you," Arya heard Mrs. Lewis say before placing a kiss on her daughter's hand.

"We have to take her to CT now," Arya instructed, "I'm sorry, but it's time."

Reluctantly, Mrs. Lewis left her daughter's trauma room and walked like a ghost back to the waiting room where she waited to see the fate of her daughter.

Unfortunately Samira's abdominal CT results came back and she had some clear injuries to her liver. The team had then rushed her to surgery, prepping her as quickly as they could. They laid her body out in a supine position on the operating table, making sure to drape her entire chest, abdomen, and pelvis. Additionally the upper thighs are prepped and draped. The O.R. was like an assembly line; nurses were setting up fluids and blood products, which were being administered via warm lines. Warming devices were placed on Samira's upper and lower extremities. The anesthesiologist was getting his stuff in order, and within seconds Samira was under.

The prepping of a patient was like a symphonic song, and Arya loved every minute of it. From the rush of knowing that you needed to get to the O.R. in minutes. The feeling that when you're in the scrub room, scrubbing your hands all the way up to your elbow that in a few moments you're going to be inside of someone. For a few hours you're going to play God, and do everything in your power to save someone's life. It's a high that no drug can give you and trauma was the field of surgery that made you feels it more often than others. No surgery in trauma was routine, no one makes an appointment to have a traumatic event happen to them, so everything was think on your feet, be on your 'A-game' because one wrong decision could cost someone their life.

"I'm making the mid-line incision," Arya informed the room. The first step of the trauma laparotomy is to control bleeding with 4-quadrant packing, using laparotomy pads.

"Lap pads," Arya asked the nurse, kindly, who then handed her a few. She stuffed them into Samira's abdomen, carefully.

"Dr. Brown, can you retract the abdominal wall for me?" He did as he was told, and then the falciform ligament is taken down and packs are placed above the liver and the spleen and in both sides of the pelvis after the bowel is swept and cephalad."

The team worked meticulously before they started to remove the packs one quadrant at a time, assessing for any further damage as they went along, unfortunately her liver was in shreds.

"Dr. Stark," Dr. Brown looked up at her, "This liver isn't salvageable."

"I know," she replied frustrated, "Damn it." They had been in the O.R. for a few hours now and all Arya wanted to do was scream, without a liver Samira would likely die within a matter of days.

"What if we removed the damaged part, and then allow the liver to regenerate?" Dr. Brown suggested.

"It could work, but I don't know how much there is to save?"

"It's worth a try isn't it?"

"Yes it is." So the two doctors got to work on Samira. Luckily after hours of painstaking surgery, she had enough of her liver left that was usable. So, they stitched her up and sent her on to recovery in the I.C.U. They updated her parents, who were just so relieved that Samira was alive. Arya informed Dr. Brown that he was going to watch her tonight and to page her 0-1-1 if anything happened. She didn't care if it was as small as an infection of a single stich; she wanted to know about it. As soon as Arya left the waiting room she crouched over herself and sighed, completely releasing the stress from the six-hour surgery.

"Dr. Stark, you okay?" Dr. Brown wondered.

"I'm great, Dr. Brown," she replied, "That was just stressful."

"You thought that was stressful? I couldn't tell, you were like a machine in there."

"You weren't so bad yourself, you're going to make an excellent trauma surgeon."

"I hope so," he replied.

"Good night, Dr. Brown," Arya smiled, "You did really good work today."

"Thank you. I'll see you in a few days Dr. Stark," he replied.

Samira's surgery went a bit longer than Arya had anticipated, so she only had twenty minutes to get ready for her date with Gendry. She took a quick shower and then changed into her jeans and white tank top and black sweater that she was wearing earlier. She decided to take her hair out of its ponytail and wear it down, it took a bit of finessing to make it look presentable, but after a few minutes Arya was satisfied. She kept her makeup simple and just swept a bit of mascara over her lashes and some blush on her cheeks. She then headed up to the daycare to go sign out Rhaenys and give her to Sansa, who had paged her that she and Willas would be there in ten.

"You look smoking," Sansa complimented her when Arya finally made it to the daycare. Darn elevators insisted on stopping on every floor, she knew she could have and probably should have taken the stairs.

"Thank you," Arya replied.

"So are you excited?" Willas asked.

"Oh ignore him, he's just a big gossip," Sansa said.

"Yeah I'm a bit excited, it's my first date in a few months so it's both exiting and nerve racking."

"Well trust me, Gendry is the guy you want to jump back into the dating field with. He will not disappoint," Sansa smiled.

Arya checked Rhaenys out of daycare, kissed her daughter on the cheek, and then handed her to Sansa.

"Oh, my what a cutie," Willas cooed, "Hi Rhaenys."

"I'll be over around 10:30 to pick her up," Arya said.

"We'll be home, and don't worry if it's a bit later than that. We're having Tom stay with us too, so I'm sure Gendry won't mind."

Arya looked down at the blond little boy with the most adorable glasses who was clutching his Uncle Willas's leg, she hadn't even noticed him, "Hi Tom," she said.

"Hi," he playfully replied, "You and my daddy are going to dinner tonight."

"That's right," she played back, "How'd you know that?"

"Because daddy wouldn't stop talking about it all morning, he spent twenty minutes picking out his outfit."

Sansa and Willas just shook their heads with glee, "He always tries so hard," she smiled. Arya was definitely feeling more excited than nervous for this date now.

She left the happy couple with her daughter and headed to the lobby where she saw a handsome, thirty-something man in a black sport coat and jeans waiting.

She tapped him on the shoulder, "Hi."

"Well hello there Dr. Stark," he teased, "Are you ready to be swept off your feet?"

Arya couldn't help but laugh, "Only if you're able to catch me," she replied. He then took his hand and wove it in hers, it was warm Arya could tell he was a bit nervous, and the two of them walked out of the hospital to his car. He was the perfect gentleman, opening the car door for her, and asking her the entire drive if the music was to her liking. He had some of band she'd never heard of playing.

"What is this? It sounds really good."

"It's an indie artist, he goes by 'The White Buffalo'," he replied.

"Really? 'The White Buffalo?"

"Hey, I didn't come up with his pseudonym, but you can't deny the man's got talent."

"I'm much prefer the styling's of J.C. Chasez," Arya joked.

"*NSYNC? Over this?" He exclaimed.

"I'm just teasing you," she laughed, "But if I was sixteen I would have been dead serious."

"Well I still wouldn't have agreed with you, I was completely into Nirvana growing up. Even tried to grow my hair out in middle school so I could look more like Kurt Cobain. Let's just say, I burned all the pictures from 1994."

"I would pay to see those," she laughed, "But trust me I don't like my middle school pictures either. I had frizzy hair, acne, and headgear. The one thing I'm more grateful for than anything else is the advancements they have made in orthodontics."

"You wouldn't be able to tell looking at you now," he said causing her to blush, "You're definitely one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen." Arya could tell in the tone of his voice that he was being genuine; he wasn't just flirting with her to get in her pants or saying a cliché line. That was what was so endearing about Gendry.

"Okay, we're here," he replied as he pulled into a parking space before he jumped out of the car like a bat out of Hell so he could open Arya's car door. Aegon had never done anything like that, not that she expected him to. He had been raised with a very progressive mother who put more emphasis on presenting himself professionally than on chivalry. But Arya admired those good old-fashioned mid-western values of a man opening a door for his woman, pulling her chair out, and well being her knight in shining armor. It was the 21st century and women can vote, should get equal pay, and choose what they want to do with their bodies, but sometimes when a man puts forth the extra effort it makes them all the more attractive.

Gendry had taken Arya to one of his favorite restaurants in Chicago, which was right on Michigan Avenue, Bandera. It was a mid-scale restaurant, with a light and airy ambience. Arya was especially impressed by the live Jazz that was playing.

"Good evening sir," the Maître'd' said, "Do you have a reservation?"

"Yes, it's under Gendry Waters," he replied.

"Fantastic, if you'd just follow me." Gendry let Arya go in front of him, both to be a gentleman and to check her out from behind. Her long, red curls that were falling down her back captivated him. He had never seen hair so Gendry and shiny, and well, mesmerizing. When they reached the table, he pulled Arya's chair out for her, and then went to sit in his own before the Maître'd' handed them their menus.

"The first one is our drinks menu, and the second is the dinner selections for this evening. Carl will be your server. I hope you two have a pleasant evening."

"Thank you," Gendry replied kindly.

They perused their menus for a few moments before their eager server approached their table. Carl was clearly a kid who either just finished his senior year of high school, or bless his soul had not hit full puberty yet. He was lanky and a bit awkward looking, and he talked super loud.

"Good evening, how're you two doing tonight?"

"We're good, and yourself, been busy?" Gendry asked.

"It's been pretty steady, can I start you two off with something to drink?"

Gendry looked at Arya who responded, "I'll take a glass of the house chardonnay."

"I'll do the same," Gendry replied.

"Would you two like a bottle instead?"

Once again Gendry looked at Arya, wondering if ordering a bottle would be too much, he didn't intend on staying out late since he had his son to take care of and he knew Arya felt the same way since she also had Rhaenys.

"Why not?" Arya replied.

"Great, I'll be right back with it."

Within minutes Carl came back with their wine and took their orders. For starters Arya ordered the house smoked salmon and Gendry ordered the chilled jumbo shrimp. For her entrée she stuck with the seafood theme and ordered the Lake Superior white fish. The menu said it was cedar plank roasted, with season green vegetable and pomme purée, which sounded heavenly to her. Not to her surprise at all, Gendry ordered the prime rib.

"You seriously just ordered a ton of food," she playfully remarked.

"What can I say, I'm hungry? I've been waiting all day for this, I even skipped lunch."

"You poor thing," Arya laughed.

"But I could say the same thing about you, did you just order the ocean?"

"No, I ordered Lake Superior, the most superior of the great lakes."

"I'd argue Michigan's the best one."

"Is that so? I'd say Ontario."

"Ontario are you kidding me?"

"No, I grew up in Ohio and it's the only one touching Ohio so I'm going with that one as my favorite."

"Well I grew up in Wisconsin, so Michigan is where it's at," he replied.

"Never been," she said.

"Well I've never been to Ohio either, so I guess we're even."

"I guess we are."

"So, where in Ohio did you grow up?"

"A little town called Moline, it's about two hours from Columbus. There's only one grocery store within fifty miles of my house and my high school had a total of two hundred students for four grades. That's how small it was."

"Well I grew up in Green Bay, so it was never quiet."

"Oh, so you're a Packers fan then?"

"Keep your voice down," he immediately crouched down, "We're in enemy country. Do you want me getting shot?" He laughed. Arya knew all too well from Aegon how intense men got about their sports. Aegon watched football when it was on, but he was never into it as much as he was into basketball. God, if anyone tried to even suggest changing the channel during a game, he'd give you the silent treatment for a week because you disrespected the pureness and sacredness that was basketball.

"Don't worry," she winked, "Your secret's safe with me."

The conversation flowed easily as they moved on from their starters to their entrées.

"So, what made you move to Chicago?" He asked.

Arya took a big gulp of her wine, which didn't go unnoticed by Gendry. Sansa had told him, after franticly texting her all afternoon over how nervous he was for his first date since Jeyne's death. He asked her a million questions about Arya, like what was her favorite movie, was she religious, what was she into, and all Sansa said was she had known her for a day so those details were out of the question. Her only advice was to be gentle with Arya because it was obvious that she had come to Chicago because she was running away from something.

"I just needed a change of scenery," she replied.

"Earlier, you mentioned," he trailed off, not knowing if it was appropriate to mention their conversation from this morning. It was completely possibly that Arya had just been caught up in the moment and hadn't meant to tell him so much.

"It's so complicated, I wouldn't even know where to begin," she laughed awkwardly.

"Try me," he replied.

Arya had recited the story of her tortured romance to so many people, from family members, to co-workers, to army buddies. Everyone she had met in the past two years knew about Aegon. They knew about how hard and how fast she fell in love with the man that took her virginity at the ripe old age of 28. They knew about how happy they were, how they'd finally gotten on the same page once he stood up at her wedding to Matthew and eloped. He was her best friend turned lover turned awkward friend turned husband turned nothing. And that's what hurt most of all. They used to be able to tell each other everything; they were a team being the only two interns from Mercy West they clung to each other. But eventually they fell in love and then out of love and in the process of doing that, they lost their trust for one another. They lost the ability to communicate with one another without arguing, without Arya feeling drained from the complete lack of intimacy or communication from his side and Aegon feeling frustrated because she couldn't see his point. Arya dreaded that one day she'd have to teach her daughter the hardest lesson of them all, love isn't enough. Because if she was completely honest with herself, regardless of the front she's put up for the past two years, she still loves Aegon Targaryen. And deep down there's that little sliver of hope, the fire that's still brewing, that maybe he loves her too.

"Well, I'm divorced," she started off, "I know that's a deal breaker for some people."

"It's not for me," he replied.

"Well me and my ex, it's pretty complicated. We got divorced before I found out I was pregnant with Rhaenys."

"Wow," Gendry said, as he took another bite of his ribs, "That sounds intense."

"That's not even the half of it," Arya replied. "He and I didn't really get along, ever since I came back from Jordan things were different between us."

"Oh yeah, Sansa mentioned you did a couple of tours. I spent a few years in the army too, after college."

"Really? Why'd you join?"

"I joked that I did it for the student loans, but I really joined because my brother died while serving. I was completely lost at home, I felt like I was suffocating. No one knew how it felt, you know one day my brother is leaving to go serve our country, healthy as a horse and then a month later we get a phone call that he's dead. I can only describe the feeling as surreal."

"I joined for exactly the same reason," Arya confessed, which caught Gendry's attention, "I was pregnant before Rhaenys," she explained, "But my son had osteogenesis imperfecta, so his bones were breaking in utero. We had to induce him at six months and he died shortly after he was born. Going to Jordan allowed me to breathe again."

Gendry immediately reached his hand across the table and grabbed hers, "Did you catch your breath?" He asked.

"Yeah," she gasped, "I finally did."

The rest of their date went super well. They had split dessert, which was an apple cobbler. Arya didn't have the heart to tell Gendry that it didn't compare to her mom's homemade apple cobbler in the slightest because she could tell that he would have been heartbroken.

They arrived at Sansa and Willas's house to pick the kids up, at 10:30 exactly.

"Wow, you're really prompt aren't you?" Sansa exclaimed as she opened the door.

"I honestly didn't mean to be," Arya replied.

"Hi there, Gendry."

"Hey, Sansa, how was Tom?"

"An angel as always."

"And Rhaenys?"

"Oh my gosh Arya, Willas's been playing with that little munchkin all evening, I think he's convinced we need another one, so thank you for that."

"Rhaenys tends to have that affect on people," Arya joked.

After a few minutes of chitchat with Willas and Sansa, Gendry and Arya decided it would be best to hit the road. Arya borrowed a car seat from Sansa and Gendry helped her strap Rhaenys into the back seat before driving them home.

"She really is something," he said, "I don't think I've ever seen a baby so mellow."

"I'm surprised, she definitely takes after her father in that regard."

"So you never really mentioned much about your ex-husband, he must be heartbroken being away from Rhaenys."

"Unfortunately he is, but he understands that the opportunity was one I can't pass up and he can't move here with me."

"Why's that?"

"He's from a pretty renowned surgical family, I'm not sure if you've heard of the Harper Targaryen Foundation?"

"Heard of it?" He laughed, "Jeyne was obsessed with it, she claimed that she was going to be the first pediatric surgeon to win a Harper Targaryen Reward." Then it clicked in his head, "Wait your ex-husband is Aegon Targaryen?"

Arya sighed, "Yeah. How do you know about him?"

"Obsessive wife who practically stalked that family, I've seen his picture a time or two. Good looking fellow, he's in plastics right?"

"Wow, you do know a lot, and yeah he is. Mainly facial reconstruction and working with burn victims."

"Yeah, I read a few of his articles a few years back on his skin grafts, they were really fascinating."

"You're into medicine?"

"I'm into whatever my wife was into, so I wouldn't sound stupid or be lost whenever we had conversations about work. Besides all our friends are doctors, so I needed to be up on the latest medical trends."

"You're honestly too adorable for words, Gendry Waters," Arya beamed.

"I could say the same for you, Dr. Stark."

After a fifteen-minute drive, Gendry pulled into the parking garage of Arya's apartment. Once again, he got out of the car first, opening her door for her, and then getting Rhaenys out of the back seat. He tried to be as quiet as possible so as to not wake Tom.

"I had a really good time, tonight," he said as he awkwardly stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Me too," Arya replied.

"Can we do this again?"

"I'd really like that."

"Good." He leaned in to kiss her, and as soon as his lips touched hers Arya felt an instant connection. They were soft and subtle, moving in perfect unison with her own. She was standing on her tiptoes so she could reach him better and his arm was placed on the small of her back. It was the most electrifying kiss she had had since Aegon, maybe even a bit more.

They pulled away from one another after a few seconds, "Good night," she said as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear and playfully bit her lip.

"Good night, Dr. Stark."

It was almost eleven when Arya got back to her apartment, put Rhaenys to sleep, and locked up for the night. As soon as Gendry had pulled away, she couldn't help but touch her lips, still shaken by the electrifying feeling that was surging through her body. She definitely wanted more. Everything inside of her wanted to do more than just kiss Gendry, but she was a Christian woman and wouldn't do anything else until she was certain they were serious.

She washed her face and got ready for bed, and jus as she was crawling into it, her phone went off. She assumed it was a goodnight text from Gendry, but when she looked at the notification her face was in shock.

_Rhaella- I have a meeting with the Harper Targaryen Foundation in Chicago in two weeks, and don't forget Aegon’s coming with._

Immediately bringing Arya back down to earth and the reality that was her ex-husband coming to Chicago.


	7. Chapter 7

_Aegon_

Aegon got up at 6:00 this morning to go on a jog, make himself some coffee, and get ready for the afternoon he had planned with Daenerys to prepare for the Harper Targaryen Foundation Gala that would be happening in Seattle. However, his mind was a bit too preoccupied with another visit he'd be having, Chicago. His mother had insisted on his presence at a board meeting, but he knew it was only because she wanted him to see Rhaenys and Arya. He had talked to them once, it was a couple days ago, he had called to confirm him coming and asked if he could take Rhaenys for the afternoon. Arya hadn't objected, but she was oddly quiet, which was certainly unusual for her. He had to admit, however, that he had missed the sound of her voice; its sweet, melodic tone was like music to his ears. He regretted not having called sooner, to ask her how moving was or if Rhaenys was doing okay, but he was busy. It's a poor excuse, but it's the best he has, he had a lawsuit that threatened his license and of course a gala to plan. A gala that he planned on inviting his ex-wife, who he's still madly in love with, to, hopefully she'll want to come. He knew why Arya left Seattle, as much as he didn't want to let on to everyone else around him, he knew it had something to do with him. Because when Arya Stark can't handle something, she runs from it, and she couldn't handle being here with him. But he was going to show her that he was ready, is ready to commit to her fully. He has it all planned out.

"Aegon," Daenerys interrupted his thought process, "How's the suit fitting?"

"It's good," he replied shortly, annoyed that she had interrupted his thinking. He was planning on how to win Arya back, what could he do at the gala to get her to come home? It's sort of why he hasn't been sweating Rhaenys, he knows that she'll come home if he asks her, won't she?

"Let me see," she playfully whined. Daenerys didn't love suit shopping, all men's suits look the same to her, and so after Aegon tried on eight of them she tapped out and has been putzing on her phone to keep her mind occupied. Luckily, she beat her high score in Sudoku and her threshold for boredom. It had been three hours, _three hours_, already in the specialty suit store that had known Aegon by name. It took her less time to find her prom dress than it has for Aegon to find a stinking suit to a gala he doesn't even care about.

"Daenerys," Aegon groaned.

"Your mother," she tapped her foot loudly on the floor, "Will kill me." The words left her mouth like knives. Daenerys hadn't dealt with Rhaella that much. Robert and her hosted a few dinners that Daenerys attended, but she didn't know her step-mom that well and she wanted to impress her as much as she could. Daenerys, normally, didn't have a problem with mothers, heck mothers loved her because she was bubbly, ungodly smart, and energetic. However, Rhaella Targaryen wasn't like most mothers, she was powerful, strong, and for the past twenty years has been the figurehead of a huge corporation; in layman's terms you don't impress her with a bubbly personality. You impress her with your strength, your tenacity, and your own success. And Daenerys was damn successful, being the head of her department before she turned thirty. She's ever mother's dream, and she'd be lying if she couldn't admit that she misses having a mother and there's that little naïve hope inside of her that thinks that Rhaella could be that for her, maybe.

Aegon reluctantly stepped out of the fitting room, "Happy?" He sarcastically quipped.

"Very," she said as she snapped a picture on her phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Sending these to your mother," she let out an exasperated breath, "She asked for them a few days ago."

"I haven't even come out of the room for every suit," he complained.

"Trust me," she's seen all of them.

"How?"

"You know that associate who helped you?"

"Yeah."

"I kind of paid her twenty bucks to snap a pic," Daenerys laughed, "Do you hate me?"

"No," he laughed, "It's just typical Rhaella Targaryen, she told me that this gala would be my event, but she's still being nosy."

"It's just hard for her to let go," Daenerys defended, "Imagine giving up the equivalent of your baby." Suddenly Daenerys gasped, knowing exactly how inappropriate her statement was.

"I think I know what it's like," Aegon replied and went back into the fitting room to change, "I'm getting this one," he called out.

"Good, it looked great on you," Daenerys answered awkwardly, still kicking herself for basically mentioning Rhaenys. To her surprise, Aegon's been pretty good since Arya left. But he's also been busy. There hasn't been an opportunity for him to sit home alone and really think about the fact that Arya and Rhaenys are gone. But it's going to happen, and soon. He won't have a lawsuit; he won't have a gala to plan. He'll only have his own thoughts and eventually he'll break and realize how much he misses them. Daenerys's just preparing for the storm that's going to come when Aegon realizes that Arya's not coming back. He hasn't told her, but she can tell he's hopeful that she'll come home after the gala. She can see it in his tone whenever she mentions her, it's nonchalant, too nonchalant, and he shows no signs of worry or care. He's convinced himself that she'll come home, and Daenerys isn't convinced that holding a gala and inviting Arya to it, is going to be the driving force to lure her away from Chicago. So, she's preparing to pick up the pieces of a broken Aegon Targaryen.

"So," Daenerys began, "When's your flight to Chicago?"

"Tuesday, night," he replied, "Why?"

"Just wondering. Have you talked to Arya?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"It was fine."

"Aegon Michael Targaryen, it was not just fine. You haven't talked to her in two weeks, it wasn't fine," Daenerys pestered.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Well," Daenerys started, "I don't know. What'd she say, how's Chicago, did she sound good?"

"She sounded amazing," Aegon, said softly as he changed into his regular clothes, "I didn't know how much I missed her. I mean," he paused collecting his thoughts, " I've been so busy I haven't thought of it, but hearing her voice it brought me back. It reminded me of everything I'm missing," he confessed.

"Tell her that," Daenerys urged.

"How? I let her go. I've been nothing but an ass to her for the past year."

"It's not to late. Is there a ring on her flinger?"

"No," Aegon said, "But my mom said she had a date."

"Oh," Daenerys responded, "I doubt it was anything serious."

"I don't know," Aegon stated, "Arya doesn't 'date'," he emphasized date, "She either acts super awkward around the guy and leaves or they become her boyfriend. She's a take 'em or leave 'em kind of woman. So, either she's not seeing this guy and the first date fizzled, or she's planning their wedding."

"Are you actually thinking she's planning her wedding to a guy she's had one date with in Chicago?"

"One date that I know of," Aegon paused, "But yes, I do. What if she doesn't want to come back? What if she doesn't want to be with me?" He exited the fitting room and looked Daenerys straight in the eye, so she couldn't lie to him.

"The people you love will always, always, come back to you Aegon Targaryen. Don't lose out hope."

"I hope you're right," he confessed.

"I know I am."

"Let's go and pay for this suit," he laughed, "Maybe it'll help me win Arya back."

"It's definitely a step in the right direction," Daenerys replied.

Daenerys and Aegon had decided to drive to, for lunch at the Tilkium Place Café. Daenerys had suggested it to Aegon, she'd discovered a couple months back on a run and hasn't turned back since. She's there practically every weekend, they know her by name, so she convinced him that they had to go in otherwise Anderson, the owner, would wonder where she is. Aegon didn't argue, the ever-growing hunger in his stomach didn't allow him to. However, he had practically ignored her presence in the car, he was much more preoccupied with rapping along perfectly to the 'Watch the Throne' album. Daenerys thought it was kind of cute, but definitely embarrassing, because despite his best efforts her brother could not sing for the life of him.

"Don't quit your day job," she laughed.

"What? That wasn't good," he replied as he pulled into a parking spot.

"You tried and that's all that matters."

"I bet you wouldn't be able to pull those Brandy notes that you try."

Daenerys suddenly turned her head, "What are you talking about?"

"The scrub nurses talk, and according to them you're not a good singer."

"Names, I need names," she demanded.

"If I was a good singer, maybe I'd sing them to you," he teased.

"I hate you."

"I know," he laughed, "Now, let's go, I'm hungry."

They walked into the restaurant, which was much busier than Aegon had imagined. If they had known Daenerys by name, why was it so big? By the way she had described it, it had sounded much more like a mom and pop diner than an upscale lunch joint.

"Daenerys," the hostess exclaimed, "It's so great to see you. And I see you've brought a different guest this time, are you and Nathan over?"

"No, we're still going strong, I'll let him know you said hi, Clara. But this is my stepbrother, Aegon. He's never been here, so could we have the best table you have available?"

"Absolutely!"

"Thank you," Daenerys replied with a genuine smile on her face.

"How many times have you and Nathan been here?" Aegon asked as he and Daenerys followed Clara to their table.

"Twelve," Daenerys confessed.

"Twelve?" He gasped, "You've only been dating for a month."

"I really like it here," she shrugged her shoulders and grabbed her chair to sit down, while Aegon just rolled his eyes.

"You've got to try something different.

"And here's your menus," Clara interrupted, "Daenerys, John will be with you in a few minutes.

"Great. Thanks Clara. And how's your mom doing, is she taking her medication?"

"Yes she is, thanks for asking."

"And your grades? They're doing okay, right?"

"Still in tip top shape."

"I have your letter on my desktop at work, I'll bring it next time I'm in."

"Thank you, Daenerys," Clara replied gleefully, "It means so much to me."

"It's no big deal," Daenerys replied bashfully, "I'd do it for anyone."

"No, seriously Daenerys, you rock," the hostess said, "You're totally saving me on these college aps!"

"You're welcome, Clara," Daenerys told the young hostess who walked away from their table because another couple had walked into the restaurant.

"You're writing her a letter of rec?" Aegon asked.

"Yeah. She's such a sweet girl. Her dad died a couple years ago and she works so hard in school."

"You are such a sucker," Aegon laughed, "You don't even know her."

"I don't need to know her to know that she's a good person, who deserves some help. We don't all grow up in multi-millionaire families who can buy our way into whatever school we want."

"Hey," Aegon answered shortly, "I never used my families money to get into Harvard."

"Good afternoon you guys," John, said, "I'm John and I'll be your server today. Oh Daenerys, I didn't see you. How's everything going, is Nathan sick today?"

"Hi John," Daenerys answered awkwardly, "No he's not sick. I'm just running errands with my stepbrother, Aegon. Aegon, this is John Clemens, junior at Seattle Prep School, and caption of their lacrosse team," Daenerys introduced him to the young server.

"It's nice to meet you," Aegon stated, "Do you need me to write you a letter of recommendation?"

John looked at Daenerys, not sure what was happening, but she had already buried her face in her hands, "No, sir. My coach is already doing it."

"Good," Aegon laughed, "Just thought I'd offer."

"Well, I appreciate it," he replied, "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Diet coke," Daenerys said, she still hid her face in her hands a bit; attempting to hide the redness she could feel in her cheeks over Aegon's ridiculous behavior.

"I'll take a ginger ale," he replied, "With lime."

"Coming up," John gleefully stated.

"I hate you," Daenerys scowled as she softly smacked his arm that was resting o the table.

"What? What'd I do?" He asked as a he gleefully grinned.

"Aegon Michael Targaryen you know exactly what you did."

"Margaret Eleanor Pierce, I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about," he teased.

"Shut up," she replied.

"So," he began, "Why did you write her the letter, and don't give me the sob story about her family and all that."

"Honestly?" she breathed in heavily, "Because it doesn't take much. Me, writing a letter for a young girl that'll take me fifteen minutes to do, that could make such a difference in her life. Why wouldn't I do it?"

Aegon was speechless, his entire life he'd never really thought about the little person. Sure he had patients that he treated and cared for. But if he were to be truly honest with himself, he didn't care that much if their kids made it into their dream school, he cared about the medicine and their health. Everything that happened outside of the hospital wasn't really his business. It was something he admired in Arya, though; she was the type of person who'd do anything for her patients and their families. Hell she even tried to learn Swahili when Bran brought those kids from Africa so the girl wouldn't feel so alone, she had failed miserably at it and ended up scaring the girl more, but she had tried.

"You never grew up as a little person," Daenerys began, "I was the youngest in my class, everyone picked on me," she started, "No one asked me to prom because I was fourteen by the time by junior prom rolled around and I hadn't developed boobs or a personality that got guys to notice me. So, I spent all day, every day in my room studying. I didn't do anything else. My nose was permanently stuck in a book, and I both hated it and loved it," she paused, "If I could go back. I'd do so many things differently. I wouldn't have skipped any grades. I would have taken more time to be around friends, to join activities I enjoyed, to be a kid. God what I would give to be a kid again. So, yeah, I help kids I don't know that well to achieve their dreams, because Lord knows I didn't achieve mine."

"What are you talking about, Daenerys, you're a surgeon. I'd say you've achieved the dream."

"My adult dream, yeah. But Aegon, we didn't all grow up as rich or as attractive as you. I was the only black girl in my school, the only one," she reiterated her point, "Even if I didn't try, I stuck out like a sore thumb because I was different. And different doesn't win."

He was at a loss for words, sure he'd experienced some hatred for his skin color, but he was half black like Daenerys, however he grew up in the wealthy suburbs of Boston. His mother had sent him to the most prestigious boarding schools, where if anyone mentioned his race, they'd be fired. Plus, he couldn't deny that he was beautiful and beautiful people were treated better. Luckily for him he never had an awkward stage, looks wise, unlike most of the other doctors at Seattle Grace. Meredith used to be emo while Arya used to be called ducky, hence why most doctors want to forget their youths.

"Different does win, just look at us," he explained, "We're saving lives, and that has to count for something."

"Of course it counts for something," she said, "But all I'm saying is I worked my ass off to get to where I am."

"I know," he admitted.

"Here're your drinks. Have you guys had a chance to pursue the menu?" John interrupted.

"I think I'm good, you?" Aegon asked Daenerys who was still looking at the menu intently, although she knew what she was going to order.

"I'm good," she replied with a smile on her face, "I'll take the chickpea chia sandwich," she said.

"Not changing it up, Dr. Pierce?" the waiter smiled.

"If I know what I like, I stick to it," she giggled.

"I'll take the French onion soup," Aegon interrupted.

"That contains bacon sir, is that alright with you?"

"That's fine. Thank you."

"I'll get these in right away."

"Thank you," they both said in unison before he left their table.

They waited about fifteen minutes for their food, which was record timing, but since Daenerys was a regular who tipped well, they tried to get it to her quickly. Aegon was just thankful that he didn't have to wait any longer for food, he had forgotten to eat breakfast and suit shopping took much longer than anticipated, so his stomach was growling.

"This is really good," Aegon, said in-between bites, "I'm glad you picked this place."

"I do know my way around the food here, even though I'm not a Seattle native," Daenerys joked.

"I'm not either," he joked

"I know," Daenerys replied, slightly annoyed at her step-brother's teasing. They had become much closer since her mother's death, she hated that that's what it took to get them to start talking as more than co-workers, but she's glad it happened. There was something refreshing about Aegon, something she couldn't really put her finger on. He was charming, women practically threw themselves at him, but he was probably the most humble person she's ever met.

"Do you like it here?"

"It has its ups and downs. My father's here, but my dad's still on the east coast. My sister is here, but my mother also died here. I definitely don't think I'll be staying here long term."

"I wish I could say the same. This city has taken so much from me," Aegon paused, "But I wouldn't be the man I am now without it. "

"Basically," she said as she took another sip of her drink, "You never would have met Arya and despite all the trouble you two have had, you can't imagine your life without her."

Aegon didn't respond, he just slurped his soup obnoxiously loud.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Daenerys pestered.

"Whatever," he croaked, "It's not important anymore, she's gone."

"You know she's not," Daenerys looked at him intently, "She'll come back."

"I love you Daenerys, but I'm gonna tell you that you're the most naïve person I've ever met. She's moved on, and so should I."

"Just a few hours ago you were on top of the moon thinking about inviting her to the gala."

"I know," he hesitated, "But I can't get my hopes up. She's her own person. If she doesn't come back," he took a breath, "I have to be prepared if she doesn't want to come back. I've told myself that she will, I've repeated it like a mantra in my head, but she might not."

Daenerys didn't know what to tell him, she cared for Aegon and it pained her to see him hurting like this. To see him as a person who's given up, a person who believes they don't deserve their happy ending. She hadn't heard everything that happened between Arya and Aegon but she knew he wasn't a bad person, he certainly wasn't perfect and so he'd probably made some mistakes, some that were monumental, but he deserved to have his daughter around him and his wife. Even though they were divorced, Arya was his wife, he never stopped thinking of her that way and anyone with eyes would be able to tell so.

"Aegon," she instructed, "Keep your head up. She hasn't said no, so you still have a chance. Fight for her, if you really want her, you'll make her know it."

"It's so much easier said than done."

"Everything is," she told him, "But nothing worth having doesn't come with a bit of work. If you want Arya you're going to have to work for it."

He shrugged his shoulders in agreement before taking another bite of his food; maybe he'd have to actually work at getting Arya's attention this time. That certainly was something he wasn't used to.

Today was the day that Aegon was going to go to Chicago to visit his daughter and ex-wife. Sure his flight wasn't until this evening, so he decided to come into the hospital to get some paperwork done, perform one rhinoplasty, and to fill his mind before he left. He was, honestly, super nervous about going to see her. He hadn't told anyone that Arya had a date, it wasn't that important, but he kept going over it in his head. What if she had met the love of her life in a matter of hours? She had only been in Chicago for hours before she had gotten asked out on a date, so it only made sense that it wither went perfectly or horribly.

"Targaryen," Bran interrupted his thoughts, "You seeing Arya tonight?"

"Yes I am," he replied with a bit of a skip in his step.

"Someone's excited," Bran teased, but then he got closer to Aegon putting his face in his face, "It took Arya years to get over you, don't you dare go there and get her hopes up just to leave her. Because, Aegon, I will kick your ass into next Tuesday if you hurt her."

"So what, now you're her knight in shining, whatever?" Aegon scoffed, "You know I'm the one who punched you when you tried to take advantage of her."

Bran shrugged, "I was an ass back then and I found her to be annoying, but I've grown and so has she. I grew because of my career and the people in my life; she did because of those who left it. Remember that, Aegon."

"Hey, Aegon, Derek wants to know if he should invited Addison to the gala?" Meredith interrupted.

"Addison?"

"Addison Forbes Montgomery, she's Derek's ex-wife, she works in a private practice in California," Meredith explained.

"I'll see if she's on the guest list."

"Thanks. Oh are you excited for tonight?"

"Are you here to warn me too?"

"Warn you?" Meredith looked confused, and turned to Bran for some insight, but he just shrugged his shoulders and walked away.

"Never mind," Aegon said.

"Don't overthink it. She's still Arya, she hasn't become this unapproachable woman who you won't recognize. If you really want it to work between you two it will. I mean, look at me and Derek, we started our relationship while he was married to Addison and we now have three kids."

"You make it sound so easy," he stated as he rubbed his hand over his head in frustration, "But it's not."

"Love isn't easy Aegon, if it were we'd all be in it."

Aegon dreaded working on children, not because he hated kids. Well, he used to hate kids. He had never meshed with them as a teenager, his mother would have had a heart attack if he babysat anyone, and most of the adults he did know with kids had nannies and round the clock servants to take care of them. He never knew how much he'd want a kid when he and Arya thought she was pregnant the first time. It's true what they say, most people don't want kids until they find the person they want to have kids with, and to him that person was Arya. Just imaging their child running around in the yard, teaching them all about the Boston Celtics and why they were God's gift to this green earth, and hopefully keeping them far away from the family business. But then Arya turned out to not be pregnant and they broke up. But it still took him a while to get over the image in his head of the white picket fence and the Old Navy style family portraits Arya would insist they take, it was a life he had never fantasized for himself, but he could feel himself wanting it.

Then everything seemed right in the world when he stood up at her wedding, in front of God and all their co-workers to finally confess their love for one another. They lived in bliss for a few months, then she found out she was pregnant. The same, imaginative feelings crept back up, of the child that he and Arya would have. But then, those dreams got ripped away when they found out Daeron was sick and in the span of a few months Aegon lost not only his son, but also his wife. Arya was never the same, and he didn't expect her to be either, but he lost the only future he had ever really put faith into. So, no he didn't like working with kids, because him working with kids meant they were in pain and it only reminded him of Daeron and that reminded him of Arya which then reminded him of the fact that he slept alone at night. Sometimes he wishes that he wouldn't have stood up at her wedding, and then she'd be married to Matthew and happy. She wouldn't have had to deal with the pain of burying their son and he wouldn't have had to deal with the pain of losing her.

"Dr. Targaryen," an intern interrupted his thoughts, "Do you want me to go over it again," he asked annoyed that Aegon wasn't listening to him.

"Go ahead, Dr. Holland," Aegon instructed.

"Sammy Prescott, age 5, in for a rhinoplasty due to blocked airway, likely caused by his OI."

"Doctor," the little boy said pointing at Aegon.

"I'm sorry, he gets excited whenever we go to a new hospital," the mother explained, "Yeah, Sammy, that's a doctor and he's gonna help you breathe better."

Aegon was still at a loss for words, because the little boy that was sitting in front of him could have been his son. Same name, same age, same disease, it was like life was playing a cruel trick on him and he just wanted to scream.

"Can I examine you, Sammy?" he asked.

The little boy nodded with excitement.

"So, Sammy, are you in kindergarten?"

"Yes," he said with a Gendry smile on his face, "We just learned the alphabet, do you want me to sing it to you?"

"He's just a ball of energy isn't he?" Doctor Holland cooed.

"We swear if he didn't have his disability we'd never be able to catch him," his dad joked.

As the adults were chit chatting about Sammy, he began to sing the alphabet much to Aegon's amusement. It was adorable to hear it, even if he got the letters in the wrong order. It made him think of Arya and how she would have taught Daeron the alphabet, reading, shapes, everything. They had started to work with Rhaenys a bit, but Rhaenys can only gargle and say one word sentences, he loves her with all his heart but she doesn't have a personality yet; at least not one that she can communicate to him.

"Sammy, I'm gonna put this little tip in your nose, can you look up for me?" Aegon asked, and the boy did as he was told, "You definitely have a blocked airway."

"I know," he replied, "It's so hawd to breathe."

"Well we're gonna get you fixed today," Aegon told the little boy, then turned to his parents, "His surgery is scheduled for this afternoon. It's a routine procedure, that Dr. Holland will go over with you again, please don't hesitate to page me if you two have any questions."

"Thank you Dr. Targaryen," they said in unison.

Before he left the room, he heard another thank you come from the energetic little boy who was sitting up in the hospital bed with nothing but a smile on his face and a pure love for his life, "Thank you, Dr. Aegon."

Daeron's surgery went well and he was wheeled into recovery about an hour before Aegon left the hospital and now he's on his way to Chicago. In a few short hours he'd be seeing Arya and he was a mix of nerves and excitement. He texted her saying he'd meet her at the hospital daycare, like she had said, so he could see Rhaenys and take her to his mother's Chicago apartment.

"Targaryen, you sure have a swing in your step," Robert called out.

"Dr. Baratheon," he replied.

"Your mother told me you're going to Chicago. Tell Arya I say hi."

"I will."

"Your mother really believes in you two," Baratheon informed him.

"I'm perfectly aware," Aegon, laughed, "She's always loved to meddle in my love life."

"She means well."

"I know. I have to go or I'll miss my flight. Goodbye Dr. Baratheon."

"Go get her," Robert called to the plastic surgeon, which was running like a little schoolboy out to his car.

Aegon took a cab to the hospital, not wanting to waste any time on finding his mother's driver. He could feel his heartbeat, it was loud; his nerves were truly taking over. Why was he so nervous to see Arya? She was just Arya, his best friend.

"Northwestern Medical Sir," the cab driver announced.

Aegon handed him some money and got out of the car, holding his backpack over his shoulder.

"Excuse me," he asked the receptionist at the front desk, "Could you point me in the direction of the daycare?"

"It's for employee use only," she replied.

"Oh yeah, my ex-wife is Arya Stark our daughter Rhaenys is registered with the daycare."

"Let me see if she put you on the visitors list, Mr.?"

"Dr. Targaryen, Dr. Aegon Targaryen," he responded.

"All right, just give me on second," she said. As she was looking him up on her computer he turned around to give her privacy and then he saw a flash of red hair darting across the hallway above him. He wanted to shout her name; he even wanted to run to her like a cheesy romance movie, but he had restrained himself. He'd see her soon enough and when he did see her, he didn't want to be panting or sweaty. He wanted to look perfect, because he wanted everything to be perfect. He'd tell her that he still loves her that he made a mistake in not asking her to stay and ask her to come home with him.

"Okay, Dr. Targaryen, I have you on the list. I'll just need to see some ID and then I'll get you your visitor's pass."

He complied and within five minutes he was headed towards the daycare, but nothing would have prepared him for what he saw. There was Arya, looking as beautiful as ever, her back was to him so she didn't notice him, but he noticed her. And he noticed, even more, the man whose arm was holding the small of her back, and whose neck was surrounded by her hands. He was tall, taller than Aegon. He had sandy blonde hair and he looked like he grew up on a farm, because his arms were big and muscular and his face looked a bit worn.

"Gendry," she said, interrupting their make out session, "I have to meet Aegon in a few minutes, he's taking Rhaenys tonight."

"The prodigal son returns," Gendry joked.

"I'm excited for him to be here, Rhaenys's missed him like crazy."

"And have you?" Aegon tried to listen to what they were saying, he was within earshot, but they wouldn't have been able to spot him staring.

"My mind's been preoccupied," she laughed, before reaching up for another kiss.

"Good," Gendry smiled, "So, I'll meet you downstairs after your ex-husband leaves, then my place? Tom’s at Jeyne's parents' tonight."

"I'll bring the chick flicks."

"You most certainly will not, Dr. Stark. My house, my rules," he teased.

"Trust me, ten things I hate about you will be worth it."

Gendry leaned in for one more kiss before leaving Arya in the hallway alone, and as she turned around she made eye contact with her ex-husband. She had never seen anyone look heartbroken, not even Matthew when she left him at the alter, but the look on Aegon's face spoke volumes. It was the look of a man that was still in love, and as Arya saw him she gasped, loudly, covering her mouth with her hands at the realization that the man looking at her, with a dumbfounded and shocked look on his face, was indeed still in love with her, but she didn't know if she was still in love with him too.


	8. Chapter 8

Good things happen to those who wait and Arya Stark had been the most patient of them all. She thought that after she had left Matthew in such an embarrassing light for Aegon, that she was done searching for the man she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with. He was her best friend, the person she could tell anything to and he to her. But then their son died and things never went back to normal. They were shells of their former selves. She didn't help him when she should have, but he couldn't understand why she left; and so they had the same arguments over and over and it became tiring. She figured it was her punishment for leaving Matthew; this was her penance from God. So, she stayed single, not letting herself out there because of that small sliver of hope that Aegon would one day come around. However, he and Daenerys became close, too close for comfort, which was the final straw in Arya leaving. And if she never did, she never would have found Gendry who was the definition of coming up for fresh air. He was the perfect mix of Aegon and Matthew; he was religious like her, but also experienced. He teased her like Aegon did, but he never belittled her. He was so amazing; her mind couldn't help but wonder if there was anything wrong with Gendry Waters, widow and father one.

"So, did you have quite the weekend or what? Gendry told me he took you and Rhaenys to the zoo. That's two dates in two days," Sansa exclaimed.

"Yeah, it was good," Arya, replied.

"You need to tell me everything. Gendry wouldn't stop harassing Willas with text messages, but you've left me in the lurch. What happened?"

"Well," Arya began, "We went to dinner Friday night and he was such a gentleman. Pulled my chair out, opened my car door, romantic things like that. And he made me laugh, if he weren't a firefighter I'd say he should start a career as a comedian."

"Everyone thinks he chose the wrong career path," Sansa added.

"Anyways, after we picked the kids up from your place he dropped me off at my apartment."

"And?" Sansa looked at her with pure anticipation in her eyes.

"We kissed."

"That's it?"

"Sansa, I wasn't planning on sleeping with him on the first date," Arya stressed, "But we kissed and it was spectacular."

"That good huh?" Sansa just looked at Arya who seemed to be lost in thought, and she was. She was thinking about Gendry Waters's soft, reddish lips on hers and how they moved in perfect unison with one another.

Arya put her fingers to her lips, "That good," she replied, "He was that good."

"You have a spring in your step, Arya," Sansa teased, "It looks good on you."

"I haven't felt this way in so long, not since my wedding to Aegon. The rush of a new relationship, the feeling of the impossible, it's all coming back."

"New relationship at your wedding?" Sansa looked at her inquisitively.

"Aegon stood up at my wedding to someone else and then we ran away together, it was both the wildest and stupidest thing I've ever done. But I wouldn't change it for the world."

"My, my Arya Stark, you continue to surprise me."

"I promise there're no more skeletons in my closet," Arya assured.

"Oh, we'll see about that," Sansa laughed before walking away to answer a page.

Arya headed down to the E.R. today she finally got to run it. She had always found something therapeutic about the pit. When she decided to become a surgeon she figured she'd be a neurosurgeon because neurosurgeons follow the rules. The brain is a complex organ one misstep and you mess a person up for the rest of their life. It made sense for Arya, she'd never broken a role in her life; always got good grades, always was enjoyed and admired by her teachers, followed her parent's rules, and went to church every Sunday. She was a good apple, the perfect candidate to be a neurosurgeon, but something just didn't click with neurosurgery not in the way that trauma did. Trauma was like lightning in a bottle for he. She'd never thought of it, she never considered it and then she did the trauma certification after the shooting and there had never been a fire underneath her like that before. The ER became her safe place it's where she felt strong, wanted, and needed. It's where she can learn to be the doctor that she knew she could always be. The doctor that she couldn't be if she was a neurosurgeon or a cardiothoracic surgeon or any other type of surgeon; those types of surgeries were too rigid everything they did was in a meticulous order. Trauma surgery had no rules, you get in you get out and you try your hardest to keep that person alive. She did that, she chose that life for herself because for once she wasn't going to follow the rules, she wasn't going to be the person that everyone thought she was and it felt amazing.

"Dr. Stark," Mindy greeted, "Good morning."

"Morning, Dr. Shashad," Arya smiled, "You ready for the pit?"

"I guess," she groaned.

"Dr. Shashad, you're studying to be a trauma surgeon, you should love the pit."

"I do, but the old Chief of Trauma never let us take point. Only the attending's got to deal with surgical cases and us lowly residents were stuck doing sutures all day and collecting bedpans of vomit."

"Today's not going to be like that," Arya stated, "Today, you're going to get to cut."

"Really?" Her eyes lit up.

"Really."

The two surgeons stood in the E.R. talking for a few minutes, Arya asked Mindy about fellowship programs she was interested in, it was turning out to be a nice quiet day in the E.R. until Arya looked at the television screen. Fire in the Four Seasons Hotel just up the block, the entire fifth floor was engulfed in flames. Arya stared at the screen in awe; it was the biggest fire she had ever seen. A few years back there had been a fire in Seattle, it was also when she had forgotten to check that woman's airway and she got fired for it. That was and will always be the worst mistake of her medical career. But it was also the worst day in the pit she'd ever experienced. Normally when people come in they're injured and in pain, some scream, some are unconscious, but no one is in more pain than a burn victim. The scent of their burnt flesh is enough to make the average person squeamish, but the fact that they're not allowed to sedate burn victims is what makes it so difficult for Arya. She prefers quiet patients, because they don't vocalize their pain as much, as horrible as that sounds.

"Wow," Mindy said, "I wonder if Sansa has seen this."

"Why would it matter that Sansa's seen this?" Arya asked, and then it hit her, Gendry. Gendry was a firefighter; his precinct was about ten minutes away from the hospital. So, he was likely one of the first responders to the scene. Arya could feel her heart in her throat and sheer panic washed over her.

Arya whipped out her phone and texted Gendry, asking him to call her and let her know he's okay, and then she quickly slipped it back into her lab coat pocket, preparing herself mentally for the bombardment of patients they were about to receive.

"Page anyone who's available," Arya told the nurse, "We're going to need all hands on deck."

"Right away Dr. Stark."

"You think it's going to be that bad?" Mindy wondered.

"Yeah," Arya sighed, "And Dr. Shashad," Mindy looked up at her, "Whatever you do, don't forget to check the patient's airway."

"Well, I mean, I'd never forget that."

"You're not prepared for how loud and chaotic it's about to be in here, so I'm telling you now, don't forget the airway."

Mindy looked at Arya skeptically, she was still staring at the television screen before replying, "Okay, Dr. Stark. I'll make sure I check their airways."

Hotel fire. They didn't sound that bad, but in all honesty they were horrific. How many people were staying in the hotel? How many rooms were occupied? How many people decided to go on a vacation in Chicago to see the city and end up in a hotel that was engulfed in flames, forty, that's how many. Arya had seen patients many a times before, but this was different. Something about burn victims made her feel uneasy.

"Dr. Shashad, do you have this?" She asked the young resident, as her focus was being pulled towards another patient.

"Yes, Dr. Stark, go," Mindy, said," I've got this."

Arya didn't say anything, she just ran to trauma one who housed none other than Gendry Waters.

Arya stepped into the room, ready to take on whatever challenge God had laid upon her, but she was not prepared to see Gendry Waters on her table. He was a strong, intelligent, young man who shouldn't have ended up in her E.R. why on earth was he in her E.R.? She knew he was a firefighter, logic had told her the entire day that he could have been injured. But naivety told her he was unscathed, he had escaped, maybe he wasn't on the front lines. But now, she was faced with the reality that Gendry Waters was laying unconscious on the table in front of her and it was up to her to save his life. She wanted to leave the room and run away, she had never had anyone she truly cared about on her table, and now all she could think of was the future she had imagined with herself and Gendry and Tomand Rhaenys, and how it's not going to happen.

"Gendry," she said, trying to compose herself, "We've got you." She breathed heavily, trying not to make it too obvious to her co-workers that this was affecting her, "I've got you," she whispered.

She looked at him, his skin wasn't too affected, and he seemed to have passed out from stress or just the momentum of what happened. He had some burns on his left forearm, but nothing that couldn't be fixed with time. But Arya just stood there, holding his hand; nothing else mattered for those few seconds. All she could think about was the man who was lying unconscious on her table. He was unlike anyone she had ever met. He was kind and courteous. He was a father and a widower. He was everything she had ever thought she needed, and more, but her mind kept asking herself if it was all too good to be true. Was Gendry Waters just a little bit too perfect, did he step into her life at just the right time? Then again, why would she feel such a pang in her heart for a man who was worth nothing, why would she care so much that it hurt her to her core to think that he could die?

"Keps?" He groggily replied, as he smiled slightly, "It's good to see you," he laughed.

"I wish it were under better circumstances," she said as she grabbed his hand and gripped it so tightly in her own that her knuckles turned white.

"You're one of the good ones," he replied before he lost consciousness from his burns.

Arya didn't have time to process what had happened emotionally, she immediately turned into Doctor Stark, trauma surgeon extraordinaire. And she did everything within her power to keep Gendry Waters alive. She worked tirelessly for hours with her team to make sure that everyone who was involved in that hotel fire lived, and through hard work and prayer everyone did, even Gendry. And for that she was grateful.

"Dr. Stark," Mindy asked.

"Yeah," Arya replied, slightly embarrassed that Mindy had caught her crying in the corner. She was supposed to be the head of trauma, but sometimes things just got to her and the thought of losing Gendry had sent her over the edge.

"Are you okay?" The resident wondered, trying to be kind to her attending without overstepping her bounds as a resident. Usually Arya would like that her residents took extra care, but right now all she wanted to do was see Gendry, to know that he was alright.

"I'm fine. Thank you," she answered shortly.

"Okay, good. Um," she stuttered, "Mr. Waters's in room 2442 in case you were wondering."

Arya didn't look up, but simply replied, "Thank you." Before she headed there herself, hoping to find an intact and awake Gendry Waters. She had heard throguh the grape vine that he had made it through his surgery with flying colors. He had some severe buring on his burning, but a skin graft was supposed to handle it well, and he should make a full recovery. But Arya forearms wouldn't believe that until she saw it herslef.

Arya walked quickly to his room, not at a run's pace where it'd be noticeable, but quick enough that she looked like she was on a mission to whoever saw her. And she was, on a mission that is, to see Gendry. Something had clicked inside of her when she saw him on that gurney, in pain, because he had been a hero. She heard through the grapevine that he got stuck in the hotel after helping a little girl get out. She hated herself for falling for a man who was like Gendry, a man who would put his life second to those around him. She knew it was selfish to dislike his job, well she didn't dislike the fact that he was a firefighter, she more so disliked the fact that when he goes into work there isn't a guarantee that he's going to come home from it.

"Hi," Arya greeted with a solemn tone, as she walked into Gendry's room. She felt out of place as she stepped across the barrier between I.C.U. hallway and Gendry Waters's room. She kept telling herself that she shouldn't be here. Why on earth was Arya herself, who had just moved to this city three weeks ago, caring about about one of its' residents so much, that the thought of stepping over an imaginary line was complicated. How on earth did she get here? Less than three months ago she had had sex with her ex-husband, with the expectation that they would get back together. Now, she was in a whole new city, with completely different complications, and she couldn't help her heart for falling for someone new.

"They send me," he coughed slightly, "The Chief of Trauma, now that makes me worried." He joked and let out a hearty laugh.

"I'm not here on business," Arya paused not knowing if she was about to take things to a more serious level, "It's personal."

"You don't say Dr. Stark?"

"I do," she rebutted.

"I'm glad you're here on personal business," he confessed once she got closer to his bed.

"Me too," she managed to croak out.

"I'm sorry," he said as she grabbed a chair to sit next to him, "I don't always mean to be a hero."

She took a deep breath in, she hadn't prepared herself when she left Seattle to develop such keen feelings for someone else, but here she was, a single mother at the beside of someone she just met, because the thought of him perishing in a fire was too much for her to bear, and so she replied, "Don't ever do that again."

"You're a hard one to say no to," Bight acknowledged," But I'm going to do my job, and if that involves running into burning buildings to save a little girl's life I'm going to do it."

Arya didn't know what to say, but her heart spoke before her mind, and it said, "I know that, Gendry. Don't you think I know that? But I don't want you to. I don't want you to be superman, because if you put yourself in unnecessary danger what will be left of Jack? Of me and Rhaenys?" She sobbed loudly, "I know we're not something yet, but to think that it could all be gone like a puff of smoke is completely and utterly debilitating."

Before he could reply to Arya's torrid confession, another person barged into his I.C.U. room, which was only placed at one visitor at a time, "Gendry," Sansa practically yelled, "What the Hell have you done?"

He only smirked at her and said, "My job." Arya gave Sansa the most sympathetic look she could manage, after all she had known Gendry much longer and she should have been the one to see him first. But a small part of Arya felt a bit giddy over the fact that she had seen him in the E.R., she had checked the progress on his surgery, and she was the first one to see him after he had woken up. Some would call that family and Arya Stark would not argue with that logic.

"You knew about this?" Sansa asked Arya, whose slight grin had now whipped off her face that she was faced with the reality of the former best friend's husband was on the patient bed in front of the two women. Arya constantly forgot to remember the significance Sansa and Willas used to play in Gendry and Jeyne's lives, and it was to her determinant.

"He only came into the E.R.," Arya confessed.

"And you didn't page me?" Sansa asked, clearly irritated.

"Sansa," Arya warned, "I can't page every family member all the time. That's not my job and you know it.

"Ladies," Gendry interrupted, which caused both of them to direct their attention away from him and towards each other, "Now that I enjoy women fighting over me, this is just too much. Arya did the right thing, and Sansa, I truly appreciate that you care, but I'm fine. No harm done."

"Gendry," Sansa tried to reason to her impromptu brother-in-law, "You have to stop putting yourself in harm's way, what about Jack?"

"What about him? Gendry replied, "Is my son's life any more important than the one I saved today, because he's my flesh and blood?"

"He's Jeyne's son," Sansa chocked out, trying to hide her anger, but it was evident to everyone in the room that she did not appreciate Gendry's act of heroics.

"I know," Gendry admitted, as he looked down at the ground. He'd be lying to everyone if he said he didn't miss Jeyne. She was the loved of his life and he doubted that any other woman would hold a candle to what they had. She finished his sentences, she pretended to like his taste in music, and she put herself on hold to mend him. She was superwoman. And now, she's gone. He knows that she wouldn't want him to be miserable, to spend each and every one of his days thinking about what could have been. That's the worst thing a person can do, dream about the what ifs. It isn't worth it. She's gone; she's never coming back. No matter how much he prays, how hard he wished, or how much it breaks him when he sees his son cry, he can never bring her back. And so, Gendry Waters will always feel like a failure, because he should have protected her. He should have saved her. But he's only human and now, he has to live with the guilt of knowing that his son is growing up without his mother because he wasn't man enough.

"Gendry," Sansa warned, "You have to stop being a hero. Think about Jack, what would I do? He's already lost his mother, don't make him lose you too."

Arya stood there silently, watching Gendry and Sansa. Their relationship reminded her of Meredith and Bran, friends, good friends, and ones who warned the other about their wrongdoings. Friends that were practically family. What's that old saying? Friends are the family we choose.

He exhaled deeply, before replying, "I have to save them. Tomwill get on without me," he croaked a smile, "He'll have you and Willas and everyone else that Jeyne adored. He's a strong kid, he'll be okay."

Sansa gasped as she ripped her hand from Gendry's, "You sound like you're on a suicide mission. He's a strong kid, but don't you dare," she gritted her teeth, so much that Arya could hear the distinct tension in her tone from the other side of the room, "Make him be strong." She emphasized each word with vengeance. Sansa had always liked Gendry, she found him to be charming, endearing, kind. He was a perfect match for Jeyne. Anyone who had known them would have gagged at how adorable they used to be. They'd finish each other's sentences. But she'd be lying, if she said that she's okay with Jeyne being dead and Gendry still walking around. She knows he tries; she knows he's doing his best. She's doing the same. Her best friend is dead; a car accident killed her, one where Gendry was behind the wheel. One where he thought he had a turn arrow, but he didn't, and so he went. And they were t-boned by a driver who was texting.

Sansa remembers it vividly. The phone call she received from Jeyne's mom, telling her that Jeyne had been in an accident, and that she hadn't made it. The feeling she had when she hung up the phone, she couldn't make out sound. She couldn't move. All she could do was stand there. The sound of the phone dropping on the floor, interrupting Alyssa's sleep, rings madly in her mind. Willas coming out from the kitchen to see if she was okay, but she just stood there like a motionless statue.

"Sansa?" He had asked, "What is it? What's wrong?"

She couldn't form words, she half thought that she had died herself, because to think that she could possibly exist in a world where Jeyne doesn't, was too much for her brain to handle. So she did what anyone would do, she bent her body over itself, and sobbed. She tasted the pine in her wood flooring as her knees sunk to it, as her face kissed its ridges, and as her husband put his arms around her torso and held her, as she sobbed. Sansa had never dealt with loss like this. Sure, she'd lost some people in her life, she was almost thirty, and it was to be expected. But Jeyne was like her other half, the twin she never knew she needed. It felt so wrong to exist in a world where Jeyne didn't. Why was she granted the ability to live? Jeyne was always a better person. A better mother, better with her patients, better with her family. She wasn't a former drug addict, she didn't cheat on her husband, and she had never regretted having a child. And now, she was going to be buried. No one else will ever be graced with her presence. No one else will ever see her smile or hear her laugh. The world became a darker place when Gendry Waters made that wrong turn, and even to this day, Sansa believes that he should feel it to his core. He is responsible. So, he'll have to explain to his son why his mother isn't there to tuck him at night, why he can't just start a relationship with Arya to alleviate his guilt. She's never going to be Jeyne. She will never replace her as Jack's mother. Try as he might, Sansa would put herself in front of a bullet, before she lets Gendry Waters take away something else from her.

"Sansa," Gendry tried to reason, "That's not what I meant at all and you know it."

"Do I Gendry?" She challenged, "Do I really? Can I truly trust you to not do that? To not throw yourself, unnecessarily, into burning buildings because you have a debt to pay. You're guilty. And so now, you're putting yourself at unnecessary risks to what? Atone? You can't atone for what you did."

Arya listened intently. She could hear the pain in Sansa's voice, how she had struggled to get those words out. She could also see the shame that was plastered on Gendry's face. His cheeks were flushed and his hand had done its best to cover his eyes. He looked down at the blanket that lied across his lap, unable to look at Sansa. Arya didn't know what to do, this seemed like an argument between family members, and she wasn't one. But suddenly she felt her feet moving and now she was at his side, and she reached her hand out and touched his. He jolted back a bit before realizing it was a warm hand, it was hand that was willing to listen, and so he grabbed it and didn't let go. His hold was tight, but Arya could take it. What he had done couldn't have been worse than what she did. She killed her son. She was not going to throw the first stone.

Gendry looked up at Sansa, now that he had Arya by his side, he wasn't afraid anymore of what he was about to do, to say, to admit, "If I could I take it back, I would. Sansa," he begged, "You have to know that I would. She was my wife. I loved her, I still love her with every fiber of my being."

"You killed her," Sansa hissed.

Gendry didn't know what to say, so he just looked her with tears welled in his eyes, and replied, "I know."

A couple of weeks had gone by since Gendry's accident. He had been released from the hospital a few days after his original admittance. Everyone had come to see him, even Sansa after she had cooled down. They were just so glad that he was okay, but no one had strayed away from warning about what he did. About how much of a risk he took. Even Arya put her two cents in.

But now, they were officially dating. She couldn't be the one to call the kettle black. She had skeletons in her closet, lining the walls; so sure Gendry Waters made a mistake, one that cost him dearly. But whom would she be if she held that against him? If she ignored the fact that he is a caring and considerate father, a man of passion, a man who'd literally run into a burning building in order to save someone's life. Those things are immeasurable. So, she's decided to keep seeing him. And she loves it. She loves the feeling the buzzes in her chest when he replies to her texts, she loves when she sees him and how her heartbeat seems to just get away form her. She loved the high she was feeling being with him, but today, it's going to end.

The fantasy bubble that she had created for herself in Chicago was going to be popped. Because tonight, Aegon comes into town. She had known about it for a few weeks. She was prepared, as much as she could, to see him again. But the thought of him coming here, of walking these halls, of making his face known, of existing in her new life made her squirm. She had promised him that she wouldn't keep Rhaenys away and she truly meant it. She wasn't going to be an envious ex, one who couldn't allow their ex to move on. She was doing it; she'd be a hypocrite if she didn't allow him to either.

"So, Arya," Willas interrupted her train of thought, "Aegon's coming tonight. How's that going to go?"

"I haven't really thought of it," Arya lied as she put another spoonful of peas into her mouth.

"Okay," Sansa rolled her eyes, "He's your ex-husband, father of your daughter, heir to one of the largest surgery dynasties in the country and you haven't thought about his coming here?"

"Nope," Arya lied again, "Hasn't even crossed my mind."

"You guys," Jo Ann interjected, "Leave her alone. She clearly doesn't want to talk about it."

"Yeah," Cassandra agreed, "You two are always liked his. So incredibly nosey."

"It's fine," Arya, said. She didn't want drama to happen between the four friends at her expense. She had grown quite close with all of them, but she knew that she'd be axed from the group if given the opportunity.

"No it's not," Jo Ann, urged, "They need to respect you."

"I do respect her," Sansa argued, "I just want to make sure she's okay. Arya," Sansa looked her intently, "Are you okay?"

She swallowed hard, "No."

Everyone's heads turned towards her, as the red headed trauma surgeon began to cry, "No, I'm not okay. I don't think you guys understand what we had. We were something straight out of a movie. And now, we can barely look at each other. Do you have any idea what it's like to fall in love with someone, to still love them, but to not be enough for them?"

No one responded for a few seconds until Willas interjected, "If he can't you, then he's stupider than any man I've ever met."

"Arya, sweetheart," Cassandra grabbed for her hand, "You have a beautiful daughter, family who loves you, friends who admire you, a damn successful career. You don't need Aegon Targaryen to make you think highly about yourself. He got lucky finding you, it's not the other way around, and it never has been."

Arya looked at her friends, wiped her tears, and smiled. This is where she belongs. These are her people. They haven't abandoned her. They haven't teased her. They haven't run away from her. Maybe they would have if they'd met the old Arya. The annoying one, the one who always stuck to the rules, and the one who carried her little red notebook with her everywhere she went. But no, they had the pleasure of meeting Arya Stark, post board failure, post divorce, and post burying her son. She didn't know if it was a pleasure or a curse.

As Arya stood there, unable to move, staring at Aegon she kept running things over in her mind. He hadn't told her to stay, he hadn't given her any signs that he wanted her; he left her. He was the one who had threatened her when she told him she wanted to go on a second tour; he was the one who refused to look her in the eye at that lawyer's office when she asked if he truly wanted this. And now, she's looking at him, looking at a man who clearly just had his heart broken and she doesn't know what she feels. Why now? Why is he doing this now, why couldn't he have looked at her this way before, before she left, before she met Gendry? Part of her feels as if it's too little too late and the other part of her wants to run into his arms and hold him, but she can't move because she doesn't know if she wants to. He is the love of her life, no other man is going to be her first, no other man will be the father of her first two children, he's it. But love isn't enough. If he loved her, he would've tried to understand why she had to go to Jordan. Why she had felt like Seattle was suffocating her, why she couldn't bear the thought of stepping into the hospital where her son had died, even if it was her safe place. It had been ripped out from under her and the one person she expected to understand her, the one person she expected to sympathize with her, chastised her the most. If he loved her, he wouldn't have threatened her when she was pregnant with Rhaenys. If he actually loved her like he claimed he did, then he would have thought Montana meant something more. He only wants her, now, because she's with someone else. Aegon Targaryen is just a little too late.

Aegon looked at Arya in utter disbelief, not because the sheer thought of someone else wanting her was so out of the realm of possibility, but of the fact that she'd moved on so quickly. He honestly shouldn't be so surprised, they've been divorced for almost two years, and she's more than able to move on. She should move on. But a voice inside of him is just kicking himself over the fact that she has. He never thought she would. And he knows that is sounds arrogant, but he had always pictured himself as the one to step away first. Now that she's doing it, he feels his heart breaking in two, but he can't hate her for wanting to make herself happy. She's a beautiful, intelligent, funny woman; but he'd be lying to himself if he didn't think that she'd hold out for him. He knows that sounds insane, that he isn't owed her presence in any way, but a little part of him was hoping that he'd be able to come to Chicago, tell her how he feels, and then she'd come home with him. He had it all worked out in his head. But then he comes here and sees her sucking face with someone else, and it's not innocent. She was into it. It was like she was kissing someone for the last time, like she needed to remember every detail of him, and Aegon was both disgusted and enamored. She was kissing that blonde man, whose name he really didn't care to learn, just as passionately as used to kiss fingers grazed his lips, as he thought about the last time the two of them kissed, Montana. He wanted nothing more than Arya to be happy, but his heart was crushed at the thought that she would be happy with someone other than him.

Arya walked towards her ex-husband, eyes glued at the ground and he did the same. His hands were in his pockets, fidgeting with whatever was in there, because his nerves were on fire right now. And soon, they met in the middle, neither one of them wanting to be the first to speak, but he broke the tension first by saying, "I'm going to go and take Rhaenys." He didn't say anything else; he just walked past her, and into the day care center. The argument they were bound to have would have to happen tomorrow, he was far too tired, and all he wanted to do was see his baby girl.


	9. Chapter 9

When people get angry they do things they end up regretting, for example, Aegon was angry at his ex-wife for leaving him to go to Jordan and so he reacted by filing for divorce. Did he really want a divorce? No. But was it the only option that satisfied his pride? Yes. He had been left too many times before in his life to let her do the same and get away with it. It hurt him so much to call that lawyer's office and have them draft up the divorce settlement. Arya had argued her whole way through, not over money or property, but over love itself. But he had ignored her every plea for reconciliation. He had trusted her, deeply, more than he had ever trusted anyone. But she abandoned him for the battlefield, and then she left again. He was her husband, why wasn't he enough for her? He never had to question his self-worth, but less than two years being married to her, he had doubted it had ever existed in the first place.

He's been angry with Arya before, but not ever more than this moment. And he doesn't know if he should be angry with her or himself. He just remembers digging his nails into his palms, trying to hold himself back from kissing his wife, because that's what she is. Interrupting her and whomever she was with, grabbing her by the small of her back, and telling her that he's sorry that he loves her that he wants her to come home with the simple gesture of touching his lips to hers. She's his wife; he's never stopped looking at her that way and he feels like a damned fool for not telling her so. Why'd he have to go to that lawyer's office? Why couldn't he swallow his pride and be a good man in a storm. They were just going through a storm, they were Arya and Aegon, they could have gotten through anything. But, instead, he chose to abandon ship and sail on his own. It was the only way to guarantee he wouldn't get hurt again, or so he though.

So, he did the only thing he knew how to do, nothing. He wasn't ready to speak to her, to hash out everything that he had just seen, because if he was being truly honest with himself, she didn't need to explain herself. They were divorced, she had every right to move on, but it didn't stop it from stinging. He didn't know seeing Arya Stark kissing another man, a sight he'd seen many times before, would create such a burning anger inside of him. This wasn't just a simple peck on the cheek; this was a real kiss, one filled with passion and desire. She's really moved on.

He brushed past a shocked Arya as swiftly as he could, trying desperately not to make eye contact with her. He knew she'd want to talk, and eventually he'd have to cave in to that request, but right now all he wants to do is see his daughter. The daughter he hasn't been able to hold in weeks. He wants to smell the top of her head and hold her in his arms and whisper in her ear that everything's going to be okay, even if he doesn't believe that himself. He's her rock and her confidant and he's been missing. In Seattle everyone thinks he's walking around with a storm cloud around him because Arya isn't there, while that's true, he misses his girl Rhaenys a bit more.

"Hi," he awkwardly greets the daycare attendant, "I'm Dr. Targaryen, and Rhaenys is my daughter."

"ID please," she coldly replied. He handed her his driver's license and within a few moments she left her desk to go and grab Rhaenys.

He hadn't seen his baby girl in a few weeks and to most people that isn't a long time. But imagine, not seeing your child for that long. Not knowing exactly what they had for dinner or what outfit they had on that day; the small things become big things. And God, did he miss her. She was like his second skin. He had never imagined that he would have children. It had never been apart of his life plan. But then Arya got pregnant with Samuel and suddenly he couldn't imagine himself without a child. But then, instead of bringing one home, they buried him. He's set in a nice plot, surrounded by people he doesn't know, but eventually him and Arya will be there. They agreed, despite whatever differences they may face, they will always be there for their son. A part of him is glad that the agreed upon that, but would he really be happy with Arya's new husband spending the rest of eternity next to her too?

But there something with Rhaenys, she was unexpected, a complete and utter surprise. Rhaenys was everything he had ever imagined wanting. He didn't grow up thinking he'd want children; people to pass on his family name. No, he never thought like that. He thought about the type of medicine he'd study or the girls he would have in his room, or the friends that he played football with but never ever did he imagine having a child. But they say you can imagine having children until you meet the person you're supposed to have children with. And throughout his residency he didn't see Arya that way. She was perky, energetic .one to follow every rule even when logic would tell you, you shouldn't. But as time went on, he used to see her little corks as annoying but they developed into something beautiful something that he couldn't imagine not hearing or seeing; something that if they weren't in his life it wouldn't be complete. And so his mind started to wander just a little bit into the realm of possibility that he and Arya Stark could be something more than friends. She had confessed to him that long ago Robb Stark, his old Mentor and confidant, had suggested to her that they embarked in a sexual back on it now, he couldn't help but laugh at the irony that Robb Stark had told him that if you love someone you tell them. Maybe he had seen what he and Arya were too blind to see.

At this time Arya was a virgin, another man had never touched her. Another man had never licked in places that would make any woman tingle, her never felt the skin on her inner thighs, never once kissed her lips in such sweet solidarity. He, as cocky as it sounds, is the only man to ever touch her in the way that only God, your husband, and death could. He remembers that night fondly. The night where she sprung up on Kyle and punched him square in the nose. He was shocked originally he never expected that out of Arya Stark. And so when she kissed him, he wasn't mad he wasn't upset some could argue that he may have been taken aback but he wasn't. Arya was his best friends and he worried that if he had thought of her as something more if he had crushed on her if he had it if he had expelled his sexual tension on her then maybe his one true friend wood finish. So when she made the first move when she pressed her lips against his and wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in closer this was fate the only thing that couldn't could explain it with site itself. They were best friends people who 10 inch everything but then one day she grabbed him by the neck pulled his lips to has and suddenly they were more than friends he was a Fest and although it's a little bit cocky he's been her only. But now thinking back thought he never really thought it was super important to be her only. But now looking at her and whomever she was kissing, he wouldn't bother learning his name; for once in his life he realized that it was actually important. He loves, love's Arya Stark, and thought of anyone else doing the same, reeks havoc through his mind.

"Dada," Rhaenys interrupted his train of thought.

"I'm here baby, I'm here," he cooed to his daughter. He looked into her hazel eyes, a trait she inherited from Arya, and they were the same eyes as her mother. Normally Arya would've been discouraged that they were her eyes instead of his, but he had a secret of his own, he found hers much more beautiful. Her's were mysterious. Unlike his, which told every secret he had ever wished to keep, they were mundane. In a beautiful way, in aw ay where no one, not even those who knew her to her core, would know what she was thinking. Unfortunately, his eyes gave him away, if they glimmered a little less blue that indicated sadness, a bit more green and it showed rage. Anyone who knew him well knew they didn't need to learn him or his body's movements, but the tone of his eyes, for they would tell them everything that they yearned to know.

"Up," she cooed, he had never heard her say up before and he didn't know whether to be sad or proud. His daughter was growing, but she was growing without him and with a new man in her life.

"Is mommy seeing the big, strapping man?" He exaggerated the strapping, only to be reciprocated by a confused look from Rhaenys. Of course she didn't know, she was only a baby. Not a baby, but a toddler, who was not equipped to judge and value her parents' relationship statuses.

Rhaenys didn't respond, she just spit up slightly on her onesie. A sign, Aegon took, as a yes. He wasn't blind. He knew Arya was seeing, whomever she had sucked face with, outside the daycare center. The man whose muscles rivaled his, whose skin was clear of imperfections, who looked like he went to church every Sunday and actually knew what the sermons meant. He had gone with Arya a few times to humor her when Rhaenys was younger. Once for her baptism, and once a week before to understand how church went so he wouldn't embarrass himself at the ceremony. He had disliked every second of it and didn't make his complaints silently, now looking back he wished that he had. The man she was kissing, looked like everything Arya had ever told him that she wanted. A young man, with strapping good looks, a strong sense of family, but even a stronger sense of faith; and although Aegon hadn't uttered a single word to him, deep in his core he knew that Gendry was a man of faith. Because, why on earth would Arya be performing the tongue twist with someone who didn't believe what she did. Aegon Targaryen was an intelligent man, so much so that his mother rested the fate of the Targaryen foundation on his shoulders, so he should be able to tell if Arya Stark was kissing someone out of lust and someone out of pleasure. And whomever's hair she was grasping between her fingers was a man of faith, a man she could see as her husband, and God that stung more than lemon on a fresh cut. Because this was real and Aegon wasn't quite ready to step into reality. He was much too preoccupied with the ooing and aahing of his daughter, to pay attention to whatever ideas he had about Arya and the sandy blonde guy she was sucking face with in the first place.

He knew Arya Stark, and she wasn't one to travel with her tongue. She was one to keep it in a safe place, and only those she trusted had exclusive access to it. So, logic told him that she wouldn't just make out, especially at her place of work, with just anybody. No, this was serious. And he couldn't stop obsessing over it, even while he took his daughter outside of the hospital and into the city streets of Chicago. He couldn't help but let his mind wander to the fact that maybe him and Arya were over for good and it was her who had made that decision.

Arya stood a few feet outside the nursery, still unable to comprehend what had just happened. She had seen Aegon, her ex-husband, former love of her life. But he had caught her and Gendry together. She didn't want him to find out this way. She knew he'd be angry and she couldn't blame him for being hurt, the sheer thought of him and Daenerys together made her up and move across the country, but she'd never tell him that.

"Arya, where's the little bug? I wanted to meet her daddy before I left," Sansa interrupted her train of thought.

"Oh, he took her for the evening," Arya coyly responded.

However, Sansa wasn't buying it and replied, "What happened?"

"I don't want to get into it."

"Arya," she protested, "If you don't talk about it, it's only going to fester."

Arya knew Sansa was right, as much as she hated to admit it, so she took a deep breath before responding, "He caught us."

"Us?" Sansa questioned, "Us, as in you and Gendry?"

"Yes," Arya admitted, "I didn't want him to find out this way."

"Well he did," Sansa, replied bluntly, "So what are you going to do about it?"

"Hide under a rock until I rot."

The two women were now walking towards their cars, Sansa had gotten Alyssa who was going to have a sleepover at aunt Cassandra's, while Arya, Gendry, Willas, and her were going to get drinks at Joe's. Arya had checked her phone before Sansa came over, Aegon texted her to meet at his hotel room by ten to get Rhaenys, at least wasn't too pissed to do that.

"Arya Stark," Sansa stopped in her tracks and faced Arya grabbing her by the shoulders and practically touching her nose to hers, "You are a divorced woman, and do you hear me? You do not need to feel bad for fixing what he broke."

"Then why do I?" She argued back. Why did she feel bad for being with Gendry? They hadn't had sex yet, and surely wouldn't for a great while, maybe not even until they're married. She hadn't broken any vows she had made to God and Aegon, but something inside of her felt wrong for being with Gendry. For entertaining the idea that another man could light the fire under her that Aegon once did.

"I'd argue, that a little bit of you still loves him."

Arya realized, that Sansa sounded a lot like Reed, her friend from residency who died when a gunman took hold of the hospital. It was the worst day of her life, but without it, she and Aegon may have never become as good of friends, and thus husband and wife. As with most things in life, they are simultaneously a blessing and a curse.

"He's my husband," Arya responded as she grabbed the handle of Sansa's car door.

"Was, your husband," Sansa corrected, but Arya didn't reply. She just looked straight out the passenger side of the car and gazed at the stars.

"You know, I grew up on a farm?"

"Yeah?" Sansa, answered confused as to where the redhead was going with this conversation.

"Every night, I'd go on the balcony that my dad had built, you could only access it through my room. And I'd go out and look at the stars. For hours, I'd just sit there and look at them. Their vast beauty was always mesmerizing to me. Here, you don't see them. The smog of the city covers them. They're the one benefit of the country, the one thing that I miss the most from home. Aegon is like that for me. The love we have for each other is like the stars, right now I can't see it, but I know it's there. It will always be there."

"Then tell him that," Sansa urged, "If he was that upset with you kissing Gendry than you know he feels the same way. What do you have to lose?"

Arya sighed and responded, "Everything."

The bar was loud, much louder than Joe's, and it played terrible EDM music. However, Arya wasn't one to complain and she knew it had been Willas's choice, not Sansa's. It seemed like the type of place he'd hang out in. One where you're more likely to get too drunk to hold a decent conversation, even if you could hear yourself think.

"Ladies," he exclaimed, "took you long enough."

"Sorry babe," Sansa greeted him with a kiss, "We had a bit of an emergency."

Willas glanced over at Arya, who was now wrapped in Gendry's arms, "Stark, what made my wife so late?"

"Don't worry about it," she replied, "First round on me?"

"It'll be his second," Gendry added.

"Shush, man. They're not supposed to know that."

"Oh trust me," Sansa laughed placing her hand on his chest, "We already knew."

"I'll take a scotch, Stark," he instructed, "And milady will take a gin and tonic."

"Coming right up," Arya replied.

Arya and Gendry made their way to the bar, he could tell there was something off about her. She normally was cheery, but to be honest, she was being a bit creepy right now. He knew she was apprehensive about Aegon vesting, she had told him so. But she had refused to elaborate on it further. He wasn't jealous of her ex coming to town, why would he be? He was Rhaenys's father and so he was going to be involved in her life and in Arya's life. It made no sense for him to be jealous of something he'd never be able to change. So, he prayed about it, asked his brother what he did when faced with the same situation. His brother had been divorced for eight years and his wife has been remarried for four. Everything told him to just be kind. Don't threaten the ex, give the ex space, don't be jealous. Be calm. It was a lot easier said than done, but his relationship with Arya was still new, he didn't want to scare her away because he couldn't handle her ex-husband coming to visit their daughter.

"How was it?" He asked, as Arya was grabbing her whiskey coke and Sansa's gin and tonic. He grabbed Willas's scotch as well as his own.

She took a big gulp of her drink, before looking at him, "Terrible."

He stared into her hazel eyes, eyes that are normally so beautiful and full of light, but now they ring with sadness, "What happened?"

"He saw us."

Gendry didn't know what to say. Why would she be so upset over him seeing them kiss? "And?"

"He saw us," she stressed again.

"I know. But your point?"

"Gendry, don't you understand that I wanted to ease him into it. He had no idea we were even seeing each other. I mean, you're not really around Rhaenys and it's only been a few weeks, I didn't think I needed to bother with telling him. But now, he gets to meet you, or the back of your head," she laughed while taking another gulp of her drink which was half empty by now, "While I'm kissing you. He's never going to like you now."

"I'm not too concerned with him liking me," Gendry answered, "So if that's what you're worried about, don't be."

Arya sheepishly looked at the ground, unable to tell Gendry what was really on her mind. She really didn't care, well too much, that Aegon had caught her with another man. No, she mroe so cared about the look on his face. The heartbroken look that she had only seen once before, that look of sad acceptance he had on his face when she accepted Matthew's proposal. He had given in and it gutted her. But, how could she tell Gendry that? He'd only assume, and rightfully so, that she had feelings for Aegon. However, despite being a doctor, and a surgeon at that, she couldn't even define her feelings.

"I just want to have fun and forget about Aegon for the next couple hours, please," she looked at him and interlocked her hand in his.

Gendry had noticed her drink was all but gone, but he didn't say anything. He didn't want to pry into what wounds Arya Stark still had, because he knew that she wasn't telling the whole truth. Falling in love is a whirlwind, but falling out of it, completely, is practically impossible. He should know, if Jeyne were still here Arya Stark would be the furthest thing from his mind.

"Thank you," Sansa gasped, as the two made it back to the booth the married couple was lucky enough to grab, "I needed some alcohol to calm me down. You wouldn't believe how much this one talks."

"I think you're a pretty good judge of that, seeing as he's your husband," Gendry laughed as he passed Willas his scotch.

"My man," he replied as he gratefully took the cup from Gendry, turning to Arya he said, "Spill your drink Stark?"

"No," she shortly replied, "Just feel like drinking."

"Want to make it a competition?"

"No," Gendry and Sansa replied in unison.

"Why not?" Willas asked, "I bet I could outdrink this country girl any time, any place."

"Is that a challenge I hear?"

"If you're willing to take it."

Sansa looked on in horror as Arya and Willas shook hands.

"I wipe my hands of this," she said.

"Me too," Gendry added, "I'll make sure you get home safe, but you know I can't support this."

"You grew up in Wisconsin," Arya stated, "Drinking is in your blood. Come on, don't back down from a challenge.

"If the challenge was PBR and we were tailgating a Packer's game then maybe I'd try it. But my college days are long over, so I'll just sit and observe."

"Oh you're no fun," Arya pretended to sob.

"I'm plenty of fun in other areas."

Arya's cheeks turned red, as she looked at Sansa whose eyebrows were raised in curiosity, "You mean, you two haven't done it? Hasn't it been three weeks?"

Arya quickly finished her drink, "Willas, shall we go to the bar?"

"Right behind you."

The two of them left the booth, to get God knows what poison to numb the pain. Arya wanted to forget about Aegon. The only other times in her life that she drank to excess were when she wanted to forget about Aegon and all the pain he had caused her. She had been so drunk the night of the gala, she had asked Arizona to try on her leg. Times were so much simpler then, she had a fiancé that she thought she loved and no dead children. God, just thinking about it right now made her miss Seattle and all the friends she'd left behind. Sure, she's sent a few texts to Arizona and Alex, but distance doesn't make the heart grow fonder. She was a firm believer in out of sight, out of mind. Besides, she was pretty convinced she was never that great of friends with the other surgeons at Seattle Grace anyways. They were friends with Aegon, and only friends with her because of him. Why else would they abandon her this year, band against her like she was this vile enemy because she took Meredith's job when she refused to follow the Chief's orders. Even Aegon had ostracized her; her best friend had treated her like a vulture.

Willas was drinking because today he'd lost a patient in a routine breast augmentation surgery. Nothing in her chart would've shown otherwise, but she simply couldn't withstand the operation. He hated losing patients, well most doctors did. But he hated even more not knowing exactly why. The body is a mystery and he wasn't interested in figuring out its twists and turns. Death meant failure and he hated to fail. He didn't do it often, but when he did, he'd always go home and open up the bottle of twenty-five year old scotch his father bought him when he got his fellowship at Northwestern and pour himself a glass. He's been working there for eight years and the bottle is almost empty; he's only had eight patients die without cause.

"What're we drinking Stark?"

"Whisky, straight."

"A true challenge?" He toyed, "Are you sure you're up for it?"

"Six whiskies," she told the bartender, "Straight."

Meanwhile, Sansa and Gendry were left to their own devices at the table. She took this opportunity to grill him about Arya and their lack of a sex life.

"So, tell me, why haven't you to had sex?"

"It hasn't come up," he avoided.

"Come on, you and Jeyne had sex on the second date. I know you're not being chaste because you're holding a vow of chastity, you do have a son."

"And she has a daughter, I'm quite certain she isn't a virgin either."

"So, have you two even breeched the topic of sex?"

"Honestly?" He asked.

She looked at him wide eyed, indicating that she wanted him to continue.

"No. We haven't. It's only been a few weeks, I don't want to pressure her into anything she doesn't want to do."

"Have you," she paused, "Since Jeyne?"

"No."

"Are you protecting her or are you protecting yourself?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"Both, I guess."

"You're still not over her, are you?"

"Can you ever be over the love of your life?"

Sansa looked at Arya and Willas, who had both just downed a glass of whiskey at the bar, she thought about Arya, and Aegon and what she had said about him, "No," she sighed, "I don't think you can ever be."

Aegon took Rhaenys to the park, he didn't realize that it'd feel so creepy at 7:30 at night, but he did it anyways. Back in Seattle she had loved playing outside. She even loved the rain. She'd cry if they took her inside, so he and Arya had invested in heavy-duty raincoats and would brace the rain with her. He had never been the rain's biggest fan, but then Rhaenys changed his mind. Rain brought about a sense of clarity, the scent of it was calming, rain-washed everything away.

He sat on a swing, swaying back and forth with his daughter in his lap. The playground was empty, he assumed most parents had already tucked their kids into bed or were eating dinner with them. Most wouldn't be at an odd playground, swinging on a swing with their one-year old daughter, but here he was, doing just that.

"You've changed," he told her, "You smell different."

"Dada," she replied.

Aegon smiled, "You didn't forget," tears came to his eyes and his voice was croaking. She hadn't forgotten. He looked up at the stars, or the two he could see thanks the Chicago smog, and smiled. He had always found peace in them. Just like Arya.

"Yeah, I'm you're dada and I'm never going to let you go, ever." He nestled his nose into her head and kissed the hat he had put on her, it was still early October, but you can never be too cautious.

Arya and Willas had made their way back to the table, where Sansa was looking at her phone, texting Cassandra about Alyssa and Tom. Gendry just stared at the table, admiring whatever wood it was made out of. Maple? Oak? Birch? Who knew? He didn't want to talk yet, because he knew if he did, the words would come flowing out of him. He was still in love with Jeyne, that just doesn't go away, and every piece of logic inside of him told him that he needs to move on. Jeyne would want him to move on. He shouldn't spend his life chasing after a ghost. But a part of him could say the same thing to Arya, who is he to stand in her way when she clearly still has some kind of feelings towards Aegon. He shouldn't stand in her way. Should he?

"Three for you," Arya stated, "And three for me."

"I guarantee you're going to regret this," Willas playfully threatened.

"Are you two serious?" Sansa quipped, "You're lucky we don't have to take care of Alyssa tonight, I don't want her being scared for life over her ridiculously drunk father."

"Well, since Cassandra and Jo are taking her for the night, why doesn't her mother get drunk as well?"

"Because, someone has to drive you home," Sansa rebutted, as she refused the drink he offered her.

"Hey, no cheating," Arya hissed.

"We could play doubles?" Willas suggested.

"Are you forfeiting, Doctor Tyrell?"

He grabbed his whisky flute and chugged, causing Arya to do the same. Gendry looked at her with a type of nervous apprehension on his face. He needed to talk to her. He needed to sort out whatever he was feeling and whatever feelings she had for Aegon. Because they should have had sex by now, per 21st century standards they should have, or at least they should have breached the topic. But he hadn't seen the inside of her apartment and that bothered him.

An hour later, Arya and Willas were both pretty drunk. They each finished their three whisky flutes in record time and wanted to go for another round, but their significant others stopped them. It was already getting late, and Arya still had to pick up Rhaenys.

"Do you know where the hotel is?" She asked Gendry as he opened up his car door for her.

"Yeah, it's not too far from here," he shortly replied.

Arya was fairly inebriated, and so she asked a question she normally wouldn't, "What's your deal? You've been super quiet all night."

"I don't want to get into it."

"Gendry," she pestered, "I do."

"Well I don't," he yelled, causing Arya to jump in her seat a little, "I'm sorry," he hesitantly said, "I just don't think it's a good idea to talk about it right now."

"Gendry," she urged, "I'm a grown up. Come on, I can take it."

He breathed in deeply, "Okay, why haven't we had sex?"

"What?"

"Why haven't we had sex?"

"It's only been a few weeks," she replied.

"Which is exactly why I haven't brought it up. But Sansa mentioned it tonight and I know why I haven't wanted to, but why haven't you."

Arya was shocked, Gendry didn't want to have sex with her, and was she really that unattractive? "You don't want to have sex with me?" She couldn't hide the tears that were present in her voice.

"Oh no," He corrected, "Arya it's not that I don't want to have sex with you, it's just that, I don't think I want to have sex with anyone." He tried to explain, but he could feel his foot going deeper and deeper into his mouth.

"Jeyne," she whispered, so quietly he could barely hear her.

He had pulled in front of Aegon's hotel, "You're the best thing that's happened to me since she died, but I'd be lying if I said you're the best thing that's happened to me ever."

She sighed before replying, "Are we breaking up?"

"No," he replied, "Not until you tell me what happens tonight."

"What do you mean?"

"Jeyne was the best thing that ever happened to me, maybe Aegon is the best thing that ever happened to you."

"I highly doubt that."

"Well even if you do, I'm not going to let you go in there with strings attached to your back. For the next twelve hours you're off of 'girlfriend duty' do what you must to get yourself straight."

She kissed him deeply, "I'll come back to you."

"I hope so," he replied as their foreheads touched and their noses barely missed each other's, they were so close, they could feel the other's breath on their lips.

"You're a light I never knew I wanted," she confessed.

"And you're one I never knew I needed."

Arya got out of his car, reluctantly, and made her way into the lobby and to Aegon Targaryen's room, where the biggest argument of her life was waiting.

It was well past 10:30 when he heard a faint knock on the door. He swallowed deeply before he answered the door. In front of him was the petite red head that he had grown to love; wearing a deep cut plum top and black jeans with strappy black heels.

"Can I come in?" She shyly asked.

"Sure," he said, opening his body up for her to go past him and into the room.

She immediately sat on the bed.

"She's asleep," he began, "I had them bring up a crib. She's in the next room over; I figured we'd want the privacy to talk. She's fine though, I checked on her a few minutes ago."

"That's good," she replied, "That's, uh, really good."

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"I should be asking you that," she confessed, "I'm sorry about earlier. I never meant."

"It's okay," he interrupted, "I know you didn't do it on purpose."

"We're on a break," she confessed.

"This soon?" Aegon asked, raising his eyebrow a bit. He found it quite odd that they were on a break, what, week two in the relationship?

"It's only going to last twelve hours, depending on what happens between us."

"Well what does he think is going to happen?" Aegon asked as he took a step closer to Arya and grabbed the chair at the desk to sit down in.

"I don't know. He thinks that you're the love of my life and that I'm a fool to not see it through," she said as she leaned her whole body onto the bed. Now she was lying perpendicular on it with Aegon still sitting in the chair, neither one of them able to see the other's face.

"Maybe I am," Aegon suggested.

"I know you are," she said, causing Aegon to look at her with awe, "But love isn't enough. If it were, we wouldn't be divorced."

He could tell Arya was pretty drunk and so anything she said right now should be taken with a grain of salt, "If I told you I love you, right now, would you take me back?"

She looked up at the ceiling and thought for a second before replying, "No. I have my career here and you have Daenerys. If I suddenly confessed my feelings for you, everything would go in the gutter. I couldn't do that, to either of us."

"My feelings for Daenerys?"

"Oh come on Aegon, you don't think I noticed," she angrily sat up and stared straight into his sea-green eyes. They used to hypnotize her, but now they did nothing. She could stare daggers into them and they still would not make her release her hold, "Just admit you two had a relationship. Or have one, I don't know."

"Arya," he half sighed half laughed, she looked at him angrily, perplexed as to why he was laughing at her, "I'm not seeing Daenerys, and I never have."

"You haven't?" Her voice shook slightly, as she inched herself closer to the corner of the bed and he inched himself closer to it himself.

"Never," he said, "She's my sister. I was there for her when her mother died, that's it."

"Oh my God," she covered her face with her hands, "I messed up my entire life because I thought you were screwing your sister," she erupted with a roar of laughter.

Aegon stared at her perplexed, "It can still be fixed. You can still come home." By now his face was inches away from hers and he did the only thing that felt natural, he kissed her. Not too deeply, but enough for her to take notice and gently touch her fingers to her lips.

"Aegon," she uttered, "We shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"We're divorced."

"We don't have to be."

"But we are," she scolded, "And that was your choice."

By now, he was on the bed and Arya was lying on her back. His hands were on either side of her shoulders and he was staring intently into her eyes, "I'm sorry," he began to kiss her neck, right in the spot that she had always enjoyed, "Can you ever forgive me?"

She lifted his shirt off his head, while the two of them made it further in on the bed, still facing perpendicular. She unbuttoned her jeans while he undid his, still looking at him intently. She had never stopped wanting Aegon, wanting him to be inside of her. Montana reopened the feeling for her, she had thought she could live without it, but she had come to realize that she couldn't. She needed him. Now.

He was erect, she could feel with her hands as they traced his abs and traveled down a bit further south, and she could tell that she was wet herself. Her body was ready. He thrust into her, gently, nothing too rough. She never liked it that way. But she didn't like it gentle either, she wasn't a teenager who was experiencing her first time, this was makeup sex, angry sex, lust sex, or sex out of love, she couldn't decide. But her nails dug into Aegon's muscular back as she gasped as the pleasure rang through her body. She didn't realize it would feel this good to have him come inside of her.

The two of them fell asleep in one another's arms. But Arya woke up in the middle of the night, with a splitting headache and the realization that she was naked and it wasn't Gendry's arms that were around her, they were Aegon's. And she instantly felt a surge of regret. What had she done?


	10. Chapter 10

The sun was shining into the hotel room, brightly, for 7:30 on a Saturday morning. Arya had fallen asleep after her panic in the middle of the night, hoping not to disturb Tomson or even worse Rhaenys. His arm was still around her chest, holding her tight to him. A part of her enjoyed it; she'd be lying if she said she didn't. But she couldn't that it was a fantasy. Being with Tomson is everything she had ever thought she wanted, but now she thinks she may want more. She doesn't want a relationship built on ultimatums or the fear that if she makes one misstep he'll leave her again. He holds all the power. The old Arya Stark would have gone back to him in a heartbeat because she was too afraid of being alone. But the new Arya, the one whose been married, had children, been to war, knows her worth isn't defined by a man. She's been on her own; she can be on her own. And then there's Gendry to think about. He's a sweet guy, and she isn't in love with him yet, but that doesn't mean she can't be in the future. She doesn't want to hurt him. Gendry is a world of possibilities just waiting to be explored, shouldn't she?

"Morning," a groggy Tomson greeted her, "Sleep well?"

"Mhmm," she shortly replied.

He immediately sat up, with only a thin lien sheet covering him, "Is something wrong?"

"No," Arya said, "I'm gonna go and get Rhaenys, she's normally up by now."

As she got up to leave the bed, Tomson lightly grabbed her wrist, causing her to turn towards him, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"What is there to talk about?"

"Arya," he groaned, "Come on, even you can't be that dense."

"See," she exclaimed, "There you go again insulting me. Do you seriously expect me not to react to that? I've started to think you hated me ever I came back from Jordan because I grew legs and began to stand up for myself, because you sure as hell remind me every chance you get that I messed up."

"I didn't hate you when you came back from Jordan," he conceded, looking down at the sheets. He never was good at making eye contact when he was uncomfortable and the topic of Jordan was about as vulnerable as he could get. "I hated that I was so scared. Scared that maybe you wouldn't come back or if you did you wouldn't be the same. I knew you'd be different from being there, that was to be expected, just like we've changed since our residency. But Jon kept telling me stories about Sandor and Alys and how he choked her in the middle of the night because a ceiling fan reminded him of a helicopter blade. You already had Samuel to deal with; I didn't know what going there could have done to help you heal. I'm sorry; I never understood why you went. To me," he looked up at her now, "You left because you didn't want to be with me. I reminded you of everything you lost, I was the catalyst. If we never got together then we never would have lost him. In a way, I thought you going to Jordan was to blame me."

"You could have talked to me about it," Arya replied in a sweet voice, "I could have explained." She looked at him sympathetically. Of course she knew, logically, why he had acted the way he had, now, but he had never confessed it in point blank terms. So he left her guessing, grasping at straws for an ounce of communication, he treated her like a dog begging for a treat and she didn't forget that. She won't forget it.

"I have," he said, "And the answer is always the same. 'You needed to heal', 'you felt like you were suffocating here'. I was your husband; I was supposed to help you through it. Why wouldn't you let me?"

"Because I didn't know you wanted to. God Tomson, you're harder to read than brail sometimes. I was dying; my son had died, in my arms. And forgive me for not realizing it was such a catastrophe for you after you went back to work the next week."

"I needed to keep my mind off of it."

"That's exactly where we differ," she argued, "You're not supposed to keep your mind off of your child. Ever," she huffed before leaving the room to go get Rhaenys.

He sat up in the bed thinking to himself about what had just happened. He opened himself up to her, bared his deepest secrets and she still acted as if she were the victim. Why do things keep going around in circles?

He heard quiet sobs coming from the other room so he asked, "Arya? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied quickly, "I just need a minute."

She came back into their room, without Rhaenys, "What did last night mean to you?"

"That we're getting back together?"

"We've had sex before and it didn't mean we're getting back together, why now?"

"Because, I finally realized how stupid I was to leave you. I love you Arya, I've never stopped."

"I love you too," she cried, grabbing his hand and placing it over her cheek, "But love isn't enough. I have to go."

"Arya," he softly urged, "Please don't."

"We're just not right for each other," she explained, "All we do is hurt one another and we're just going to keep doing it. I'm happy here, I'm making friends here, and I have a program that I can be proud of. I don't belong in Seattle, not anymore. And I don't belong with you."

"Why are you saying this?" He could feel the anger surging through his veins, "You're just saying this to hurt me."

"No," she sighed, "I'm not saying it to hurt you or to get back at you or any of that. I'm saying it because it's true."

"I'm not going to stop fighting for you," he warned.

"Tomson," she looked at him intently, with tears in her eyes, "I don't want you anymore."

"You're lying."

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. But I can't be with you."

"Do you want to be with him?"

"That doesn't matter right now."

"Yes it does."

"I can be with whomever I want, just like you can. I didn't stop you when you dated Stephanie and I'm not going to stop you if you want to date someone else. I'm not your wife, I have no say in what you do."

"You could be my wife. You could come home with me and we can forget that any of this happened."

"You sound like you live in a fairytale land," she said, "This is reality." She let go of his hand, "I love you, and I hope you know that. I love the children we created, the life that we could have had. But I'm not going to spend my life chasing after a ghost of what could have been."

She got up to leave, "Don't go," he begged. It wasn't a threat, but this time it was a desperate plea for her to stay.

"Bring Rhaenys back to my place tonight," she instructed, "I'll text you the address." Before she closed the door behind her unable to look back at the heartbroken Tomson who was still naked with only the sheet covering him.

As soon as she left Tomson's hotel, Arya headed home in a cab, wearing last night's clothes and smelling of regret and whiskey. She had a splitting headache and all she could think about was a nice hot shower and a warm cup of earl Snow tea and Gendry. She had texted him saying she had talked with Tomson and that if he was willing to pursue things with her further that she was ready and available. He hadn't responded last she checked. Should she tell him about sleeping with Tomson? She felt guilty for it, in a way, even though she knew it wasn't, she felt like she had cheated on Gendry. What she did wasn't honest and she couldn't begin a relationship on a lie. Could she?

Her phone buzzed loudly, she answered, "Hello?"

"Arya, it's uh," he hesitated, "Me. Can I come over?"

"Yeah, I was just gonna hop in the shower, but you can come whenever," she responded as she started the water and stripped out of last night's clothes. She pinned her hair up on top of her head.

"Good," he said, "I'll be there in an hour."

"Can't wait."

The hot water hit her back like knives, they pelted her skin so suddenly she wanted to flinch, but couldn't will herself to. She turned around, so the water hit her breasts, ran down her sternum, and into her navel. She lathered up her loofa and began washing her body then her face. After she was done she just stood in the shower, letting the water keep hitting her body. People do some of their best thinking in the shower and Arya Stark wasn't an exception.

Tomson and her used to be happy, truly happy. It was before the marriage or even before they had had sex. They were best friends. And a part of her misses the friendship more than the marriage. The marriage was a piece of paper that told the state you wanted to file jointly for taxes, it meant nothing if you weren't married to a person you'd want to spend the rest of your days with. A person you expected would laugh at your jokes even though they've heard them a thousand times. A person who would know what you wanted them to bring home for dinner without having to ask. A person who knew what subjects not to talk about because the wounds were still too fresh. She wanted a husband, not a marriage. But what is a husband if he isn't a friend?

She had never really had male friends growing up. Most of the guys from Moline were too enamored with Libby. She was prettier, more charismatic, and definitely much looser than Arya. So, when she and Tomson became friends Arya had had no experience with guys. She decided to keep their relationship as a friendship because she knew that Tomson was way out of her league. She knows she's pretty now, intelligent, a kick-ass surgeon. But back then, she was mousey. Her hair was too long, dark, and frizzy. Her nose was still a bit pointy when she turned to the side; she hadn't yet had the nose job Charles required her to get after breaking her nose. And she still hadn't mastered the art of holding her liquor or walking in a pair of high heels. She wasn't a woman yet. And Tomson Targaryen only dated women.

She dated a few guys during her internship, but nothing serious. A drink here, a dinner there, nothing that amounted to anything more than a goodnight kiss and a half-assed promise that they'd do it again sometime. Arya didn't mind at the time because she thought it was a blessing that any guy would even look at her twice. But eventually, she grew out of her mousey phase. Grew tired of being called an ugly duckling, picked last for surgeries, being ridiculed by her peers for simply being herself. She found her ground and her footing and she'd be damned if she lost it all because of some boy. She's spent too much time getting to this point; it'd be a shame if she lost it now.

She heard a loud knock at the door as she quickly put on a t-shirt, "Hello," she answered.

"Hey," Gendry replied, "Thanks for letting me come on such a short notice."

"It's not problem," she awkwardly said. He stood there for a moment before she remembered her manners and said, "Oh, come in. Make yourself at home."

"Nice place you got here," he commented as he scanned her living room. There was one dark leather couch, a gift from Rhaella who insisted that Arya's place be decorated with the best of the best. She offered to pay for it all, but Arya insisted that it wasn't necessary. So, Rhaella bought the most expensive couch she could find and plopped it in Arya's living room before she could take no for an answer.

"Thanks. Do you want anything to drink?"

"I'm good."

"Okay."

"So," he began, his hands were in his pockets and he was balancing his weight back and forth, "About last night."

"Yeah, about it," she began, "I need to tell you something."

"I need to tell you something first," he said, "I didn't mean it. I do really want to try and make things work between us. But, if you're going to go back to your ex, I guess what I'm trying to say is I'd like to know now. Because I can see myself falling for you and I don't want to end up heart-broken."

She stared at his green eyes, green as emeralds and replied, "I'm not going back to him."

"Really?" His eyes lit up.

"Really," she assured.

He ran over to her and pick her up with little effort and twirled her around, kissing her softly on her lips, it was supposed to be the most passionate kiss ever, but somehow it didn't even compare to the drunken kiss Tomson had given her last night. And suddenly she had this nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach that maybe what she was doing wasn't right. Damn it, she needed to get Tomson out of her mind.

"Arya," he looked at her tentatively.

"The bedroom's the second door on the left," she replied. Maybe this is how she'd forget, so she wrapped her arms around Gendry's neck, and his were supporting her legs that were around his back and he carried her into her bedroom.

Arya and Gendry had spent the entire day in her apartment, just talking. Tom was still with spending the day with his grandparents and the zoo and well, Rhaenys was with Tomson. It was nice, to sit there and talk with him wearing nothing but her silk robe. Then a knock came at the door, was it 7:00 already?

"Hide," she panicked, leading him into the bedroom where she quickly changed into a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt, not before she left her robe on the floor outside her door.

"Wait, what's going on?" He asked confused.

"It's Tomson, he's here with Rhaenys."

"Come on Arya," Gendry said, "You can't hide me away forever."

"I know that, but now is not the time," she urged.

He put his hands up in playful concession, "Okay."

She quickly brushed her hair with her fingers and answered the door.

"Hi," she announced, slightly out of breath.

"Hey," he replied, "You okay. You seem to be running around like a chicken with their head cut off."

"No, I'm great," she lied, "How was the little nugget, she didn't give you any trouble did she?"

"She never does."

"So, what'd you two do all day?"

"Not much, just went to the park, stopped by the hospital to get some stuff for the foundation."

"Oh really?" She inquired, "How's that going?"

"Pretty good," he awkwardly responded, "I'm planning a gala."

"You're planning a gala?" She had to hold back her laughter, "Are you maybe forgetting the fundraiser you threw where the dancer almost died."

"This one doesn't have a magician's theme," he countered. He stood inside her apartment awkwardly, not really knowing what to say next, but the words came out without thinking, "I'd love it if you could come."

"Oh, Tomson, I don't know."

"Please," he quietly asked, looking at her with his sea-green eyes that could melt even the coldest of hearts, "For old time's sake?"

He knew when nostalgia was involved it'd be hard to convince her not to go, "When is it?"

"Next weekend."

"Next weekend?" She exclaimed, "Tomson that's too short of a notice, I don't know if I can."

"If it's any consolation, I'm sure my mother would be happy to call your Chief and let him know you'll be gone for the weekend."

"Oh no," Arya insisted, "Your mother has been too involved already. She wouldn't let me move in without decorating the place; I had to kick out her assistant Clara. I felt like a monster."

"You, a monster? I can't see it."

"You of all people," she scoffed, blowing a piece of hair out of her face.

"I'm just kidding."

She looked down at her bare feet, which were crossed over one another before replying, "I'll come."

"Really?" His eyes lit up with glee, "Hear that Rhaenys? Your mommy's coming back home."

"To Seattle," she corrected.

"Home," he muttered under his breath, "Well I, uh, I should get going. It was really great seeing you." He stood there awkwardly not knowing what to do, so he bent down to the car seat that Rhaenys was sitting in. She never fussed, so when he gave her a goodbye kiss, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a bit disappointed that she didn't cry or try to grab on to him, "I'll see you next week, little bug."

"Bye Tomson," Arya said.

"Bye, big bug," he laughed as he left her apartment, he was happy that he'd convinced Arya to come back home, but was a bit irritated at whatever or whomever she was hiding behind that closed bedroom door.

Arya shut the door and couldn't help the playful grin that spread across her face, now the only problem, what was she going to wear?

"So, you two seem like you're in a good place," Gendry interrupted. Well she thought she only had one problem.

Once again, Arya stood in her living room, staring at the excessively expensive, leather couch that Rhaella had bought her, waiting for a man in her life to speak with her. She adored most men in her life, her father, for one, had always been a rock. He'd been her confidant. If she had a problem she told him. If she felt inadequate, felt that Libby was surpassing her, felt like maybe she wasn't pretty enough; she told her father. Then that man became Tomson. She was an adult and she shouldn't really tell her father every problem she had, especially when they came to sex and feeling the pressure to have it. But, she couldn't tell that to Tomson either. Honestly, she couldn't tell Tomson most things, seeing as he was the pillar of judgment when it came to sex, plus he'd never be able to understand the feelings she once had had and still feels from time to time.

"Arya," he said, "What was that?"

"What was what?" She ignored is original question, huffing a bit under her breath.

"Are you going to go to Seattle?"

"He asked me less than ten minutes ago. I'm honestly not sure. Why would it bother you?" She challenged. She was her own person and she'd be damned if Gendry told her what she could and could not do, especially when they'd only been dating for a few weeks.

"Yes it would," he confessed, looking at her with his emerald eyes, "It doesn't sit right with me that you'd be there for an entire weekend, with him."

"Gendry Nathaniel Waters are you jealous?"

"On Tom's life?" he questioned, pulling her body closer to his so their faces were mere millimeters apart, "Yes. I Gendry Nathaniel Waters confess that I am jealous."

"Well, if it helps any, I'm sure I can get you invited to the gala. You'd be my plus one."

"I don't know how I'd feel about going to Seattle," he confessed, "Maybe you should just go alone."

"Are you afraid?" Arya toyed, wrapping her arms around Gendry's thick neck, his skin was filled with sun spots from spending his summers outdoors at football camp, "I promise Seattle doesn't bit."

"I know it doesn't," he breathed heavily, "But your husband does. And you two, don't' seem finished."

Arya looked at him with contempt, "Excuse me," she ripped her body away from his, "Of course we're finished. How dare you think we're not?"

He put his hands up in surrender, "Okay, Arya. You may be done with him, but I don't think you're done with him. Did anything happen last night, you can tell me. I gave you the pass after all."

Arya didn't know what to say. Here was her opportunity to be honest, tell Gendry that she and Tomson had slept together. She wasn't ashamed that she had slept with her ex-husband; she was actually quite giddy about it. Tomson had been phenomenal. He knew exactly where to rub her, where to touch her skin with his, he knew her in a way that no man had ever known before. He was the only man she'd ever had sex with, not even Gendry or Matthew had that honor. But a part of her felt that Gendry was better for not knowing. Maybe knowing that she and Tomson had had sex last night would do more harm than good.

"Gendry," she paused, looking into his eyes, "I don't want to start things on a lie," she began, he only looked at her with pure anticipation, "I did sleep with Tomson last night."

"You what?" He rubbed his hand through his hair in frustration, "You slept with him?"

"There really isn't anything I can say," she explained, "I regret every second of it," she lied, "It was purely for closure."

"How was he?"

"Excuse me?"

"I asked," he repeated, "How was he?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, yes it does."

"Well," she huffed, "I'm not telling you. That's private, between us." She tucked her hair behind her ear, "And you know what, it's incredibly rude for you to ask."

"Well pardon me for asking my girlfriend how having sex with another man was when she and I haven't even had sex."

"It's been three weeks," she exclaimed, "God, I stayed a virgin until I was 28. And even so, I felt like absolute crap afterwards. Get over yourself Gendry because I wasn't even going to consider having sex with you until we were engaged, at the least."

He shoulders slumped and his body became more open, "Arya," he softly said, "I had no idea."

"Yeah," she rebutted, "That's because you didn't ask."

"I'm sorry."

"You should be."

"I want more than sex," he confessed, "God do I really miss the sex. Jeyne," he reminisced, "She knew me in a way that I'm not sure any woman could again. And damn I loved her for it. But I want more than that. I want someone who I can laugh with, and you make me laugh," he closed his eyes and shook his head slightly as he was talking to her, "I want someone who looks at my son as if he's their own. Every night I come home, Tom asks about you. He asks about the red-headed surgeon who talks to him and shares the interesting stories about their day with him, but mostly because you actually take the time to ask him about his day. No one does that, ever. You texted me the morning after I told you my mother in law was sick, asking if I needed anything. Sex is great Arya," he took a breath, "Probably the best physical thing a man can experience, but damn is it trivial to the emotional things man can experience. I want you, and I can wait as long as you want. If it takes a wedding ring on your finger, then I'll wait. Gladly."

Arya didn't know what to say, so she let out a sheepish, "Really?" Before attacking him with kisses, "Come to the gala with me?"

"I'd be honored," he answered in between kisses, "Milady."

Today was Wednesday, which meant that Tomson had three days until the gala on Saturday to get everything prepare and he was no where near ready. Luckily he got a text from Arya, accompanied with a picture of Rhaenys, confirming that she'd be there with a plus one. He gritted his teeth in frustration when he received it, but he couldn't argue, at least she was coming.

"Targaryen," Stark interrupted, "Can you check this budget?'

"Yeah," Tomson answered quickly, annoyed that his colleague had just bombarded him in the hallway.

Bran Stark was still a bit bitter that Bailey had taken his seat on the board, that Alys had given him, because he'd earned it. He survived a hospital bomb scare, shooting, super storm. Every claims Jon is the lucky one who's survived death on more than one occasion, but he was there too. Hello? But that fact wounded his ego, his pride was wounded by the fact that every time he wanted to spend a little more money on the little children, as Arizona called them, he had to ask Tomson Targaryen. He had never been best friends with the guy. He likes him, okay. They weren't enemies nor were they people that'd take a bullet for one another. But, something ticked Bran off to his core when he thought that everything he'd ever do as a doctor within the walls of this hospital would somehow have to have Tomson Targaryen's name or stamp of approval attached to it.

"Thanks," Bran said, "So, how was Chicago."

"Fine." Tomson answered back cold.

"Dude," Bran laughed, "why the cold response? I mean, maybe I could tell because Stark's not here."

"She'll be here on Saturday."

"Moving back already?" Bran teased.

"No," Tomson confessed, "She's coming back for the gala."

"That all?"

"I hope not."

"Me too," Bran patted Tomson on the back, "It's weird to see you with you tail stuck between your legs."

"What do you mean?" Tomson questioned.

"Oh nothing," he laughed, "it's just that we're all going to be entertained seeing you with your foot in your mouth when Arya comes back here."

"I'm not," Tomson argued.

Bran stopped him mid-sentence, "We all know you are, so save it man. Thanks for singing this," he said before leaving the plastic surgeon as swiftly as he came.

"So, are you and Nathan going to go to the gala together?" Jon asked Daenerys. The pair were eating lunch with Derek and Alys, luckily their days weren't too jam packed with surgeries, so they had time to unwind and eat a poorly made sandwich from the hospital cafeteria.

"I don't know," Daenerys shyly responded, "We haven't been seeing each other for that long, I don't want to be too forward."

"Daenerys," Alys interrupted, "This whole," she looked her up and down waving her finger as well, "I'm as innocent as the black Barbie doll you buy in the box has got to stop. You're a grown woman, men want you, and women want you, go get your man."

"Alys's right, isn't she Derek?" Jon nudged her husband who was reading an article on his phone, only half paying attention to whatever the women were talking about.

"Right about what?"

Jon rolled her eyes in frustration, "That she should ask Nathan to the gala."

"Sure."

"Derek," Daenerys sighed, giving in was not one of her strong suits, nor was admitting that she lacked strong suits, "I've only been seeing him for a month officially, would it be coming on too strong if I asked him to the gala? Give me your honest, guy, opinion."

"Lay it on straight, McDreamy," Alys chimed in.

"As a guy," he coughed, "I'd want to ask you. And if he hasn't asked you yet he either doesn't think you're serious enough, he doesn't want to take you, or option three which is the most likely."

"Get to the point Derek," Jon warned as she looked across at a panicked Daenerys.

"As I was saying, he probably feels exactly like you. He doesn't want to come on too strong so he's been avoiding the topic."

"Is it me or does this feel like prom?" Alys asked.

"Prom?" Daenerys was confused.

"Remember when Callie claimed my panties?" Jon laughed.

"Yeah, because you and McDreamy were doing the McNasty while the vet just stood there waiting for you two to finish."

"Prom?" Daenerys asked again.

"Oh, Dr. Weber held a prom for his niece Nicole, after her diagnosis she couldn't go to prom. You should have seen how lost Bran and George were when it came to decorating," Jon laughed. Then a small smile came over her face when she realized how much things had changed. Things were so much simpler back then, they were only little interns who didn't have any idea how to be surgeons, but even less of an idea on how to be people. No one had died yet, no one had been shot, and no one had been in a plane crash. She had Derek wrapped between her legs and her entire future in front of her. Prom was simultaneously the best and worst night of her life, a time that Jon, despite all her best efforts, would never truly be able to get back.

"So, the gala is like a prom?" Daenerys asked confused.

They all just laughed in unison, "No, but it's not a serious as you think it is. Go with Nathan, have fun, let loose," Jon instructed, "It could be the best night of your life."

"Well it's got to be better than my real prom," she confessed, "I was four years younger than everyone so that tells you how that went."

"Guys," Bran interrupted as he quickly sat down, "Stark's coming to the gala."

"No," Alys mocked him, "You're kidding."

"Shut up Karstark," he snarkily replied, "I just texted her about it. She told me she's bringing a date."

"Does Tomson know?" Jon wondered.

"Oh, he knows," Bran assured, "He's the one who told me she's coming. But I don't know if he knows she's bringing someone else. He seems pretty convinced that they're going to patch things up."

Everyone looks over at Daenerys; she's been spending the most time with Tomson lately, so if there's anything going on in his mind, she's bound to know it.

"Spill," Alys instructs.

Daenerys found Tomson sitting up on the rooftop, he and her had called it their super, secret, sibling hiding spot because they both felt like it was the only place they could talk without other ears listening. Daenerys was well aware of what people were saying, she knew that they thought she and Tomson were pursuing this incestuous thing and that she's the real reason Arya left. Most people who said that were nurses and techs, people who Arya got along with quite well. But they were wrong on so many levels. Well Daenerys loved Tomson, he was kind, forthcoming, and definitely much more humble than most give him credit for, it was a sibling love. He had helped her through the most difficult time in her life, so she's going to help him through the most difficult time in his.

"Thought I might find you up here," she teased, "You know you can't hide from me."

He sighed, he knew he'd have to talk to Daenerys sooner or later, he was hoping it'd be later, "Congrats," he laughed, "You found me."

"Why so gloom?"

They were standing next to one another now, not looking at each other but at the Seattle skyline they had both become fond of, "She's really moved on."

She stroked his back, "Tomson."

He turned his body towards her and asked, "I am seriously that unlovable?"

"No."

"Then why does everyone leave?"

"Arya didn't leave you because you're unlovable. She left because she needed to find herself. Just give her some time; she'll come back to you. Trust me."

"We slept together," he confessed.

"You what?"

"Yeah, she came over to my hotel to pick up Rhaenys, she was a bit drunk," he smiled thinking about how the petite red-head knocked three times at his door, "And one thing led to another."

"Oh my God Tomson, what the hell happened?"

"She told me that love wasn't enough because if it were then she'd still be here."

Daenerys didn't know what to say next, but then the words came flying out of her mouth, "Well she's going to be at the gala right? Stark told us."

"Yeah."

"Isn't that what you wanted? Isn't that what you went to Chicago for?"

"Of course I want her there, but something about us feels finished. Even when we got divorced I didn't feel this way. Maybe it's because she's moving on or maybe it's because we've finally said what we needed to. But I can't shake this feeling."

"Those are called nerves," Daenerys assured, "And they'll go away on Saturday."

"I hope so," he added, "I really hope so."

The E.R. had been hectic all week, but none more hectic than tonight. Arya's last night before she catches a 9:00 p.m. flight with Gendry to Seattle. She ordered her dress online; she didn't even have time to run to the store to try it on, so she's praying it'll fit.

"Dr. Shashad, do you have this patient?" She asked the young doctor. They two of them had been getting along quite well, and Mindy was making a valiant effort on their research project. Luckily it was green-lighted by the chief and now Arya and her assistants, as they insisted she call them, were recruiting military vets to start the research.

"I got it. If I need anything I'll page Dr. Meyers, you go and have fun this weekend Dr. K. you deserve it."

Arya just smiled pleasantly at Mindy, "Thank you." She left the E.R. and headed towards the daycare to get Rhaenys, but before she could Sansa interrupted her.

"So, you didn't tell me you were going to Seattle this weekend, I had to find out from Willas because Gendry had told him he and you were going out of town and that's why he couldn't come to golf on Sunday."

"It's really not a big deal," Arya said, "It's just a gala thing."

"A gala?" Sansa's eyes got wide, "Arya Stark, are you playing coy with me?"

"No."

"Seriously? And how did you get invited to this gala, might I add?"

"My ex-husband is throwing it."

Sansa immediately grabbed Arya by the shoulder and spun her around, "You are taking your boyfriend to a gala that your ex-husband is throwing, half way across the country, even though the two of you had sex a week ago."

Arya sighed, she had to confide in someone about sleeping with Tomson and Sansa was certainly the best option, but damn was she nosy, "Yes."

"You do understand that this is a huge deal?"

"I'm trying not to think of it," Arya said, "Me and Tomson are in a good place. I think we've finally laid everything on the line. I'm going to support him as a friend; he's worked really hard for the foundation and deserves to get this recognition. It's the right thing to do."

"But did you need to bring Gendry? It kind of feels like you're bringing him to show him off."

"So what if I am?" Arya challenged, "He's my boyfriend, we're together, and it might be nice if for once people in Seattle would understand that I'm a desirable woman. Plus can you imagine how good Gendry will look in his tux."

Sansa knew how good he looked in one, when he wore one on his wedding day to Jeyne, "I can only imagine," she softly stated.

Arya genuinely didn't want to hurt Sansa's or anyone's feelings, she wasn't bringing Gendry for eye candy albeit that was a slight perk. She was bringing him because she wanted him to see the hospital were she first learned to be a surgeon, she wanted to show him her favorite bars and restaurants in Seattle, also ever since they first met he hadn't stopped bugging her about the Space Needle. This trip was as much for him as it was for her.

"I'm going to do right by him," Arya said, "Don't worry."

"I know you will," Sansa leaned in for a hug, "Have a safe trip."

"Thank you."

Arya had met Gendry at the airport, it was much easier for her to take a cab than drive, and he had agreed. He had one duffle bag slugged over his shoulder and a garment bag that held both her dress and his tux. She immediately went over to greet him, setting her big tote on the ground and wrapping her arms around his neck, while his did their best to caress her waist, and kissed him.

"Hey," he smiled, "I thought I'd have to wait forever for you."

"I'm sorry," she laughed, "It's just that Rhaenys was being fussy and I got stopped by Sansa before heading to the daycare."

"It's okay," he assured, "So, how's the little bug gonna be on the flight? I remember Tom's first flight to Houston to visit Jeyne's parents and he was not a happy camper. Jeyne was so mortified that she wanted to go and apologize to every passenger."

Arya laughed a bit, "She should be fine. She's been on planes a couple of times, but if she gets noisy, people will have to deal." Arya planned on doing her best with Rhaenys, like holding her, rocking her, changing her, or whatever else she may need, but she was a mother and so she had no time for people's unnecessary judgments on her daughter. Headphones were invented for a reason.

"Okay," he stated, "So I have our tickets and we're in terminal 2. Which is right over there."

"Perfect."

He grabbed her hand and Rhaenys's car seat, while Arya had her luggage in the other; they had already given their checked bags and the garment bag to the airport helper, and walked into the airport together, looking like a family. If anyone had seen them they would've been hard pressed to believe otherwise.

"Are you ready to go, Arya Stark?" He asked, smiling at her.

"I'd go anywhere with you," she replied, looking up at him with a smile beaming across her face and the two walked into the airport, prepared to go on their first adventure together.


	11. Chapter 11

She stepped off the plane and into the terminal, breathing in the Seattle air for the first time in two months. Two months since she's been here, stepped on the ground, looked at the Space Needle. Two months is awfully long and awfully short at the same time. She didn't know if she was ready to face more than the salty breeze of the Pacific Ocean and the constantly cloudy skies without Gendry by her side. He had become her rock. After they'd talked about Aegon and her and him falling into old habits, to put it politely, she and Gendry had moved forward in their relationship to the point where people were already placing bets on when they'd get engaged.

Arya wasn't looking for a ring, this time around. She didn't care about having a husband or a fiancé or even anyone she could parade around to prove to others that she was lovable. All she really wanted was a companion. Someone who'd make her laugh, take care of her when she's sick but leave her to her own devices otherwise, and someone who would be there for her daughter as if she were his own. That's all she needed. She's a strong woman; she can get her fill of self-indulgence and gratification from herself. A man is an extra. She enjoys him, but he isn't necessary to her survival, not anymore.

"I've never been to Seattle," Gendry interrupted her train of thought. He was still holding Rhaenys's baby carrier in his right hand, while his left was holding hers. They looked like the perfect family, husband, doting wife, and adorable sleeping daughter. No one said anything to them at the airport, but Arya knew people were looking and admiring her seemingly perfect family. And she'd be lying too if she didn't admit that they did look perfect, the only things missing were Tom in her left hand and a diamond ring on her ring finger to make it complete. Then they'd be a sight to gawk at and only then.

"You'll love it," she reached up to kiss his lips, even she had to admit their height difference was adorable, "I promise," she grinned.

He hadn't replied, but took her word for it as his lips slowly crashed on to hers. Thinking maybe this was the start of something amazing. He had a beautiful woman on his arms, an adorable little girl in his hand, and a young boy who admired him like no other. Gendry Waters had everything, so why did he feel like he could lose it all?

"I'll take your for it," he grinned as her took her petite hand in his, a boy from Sheboygen, Wisconsin, was about to get everything he had ever wanted. A wife. A daughter. A purpose. He just had to get through this weekend.

She playfully smacked him upside the shoulder, "Gendry Syrioiel Waters, you think I'd lie to you," she laughed, "I wouldn't have had the time to think of a clever enough one to get you off of your tracks. Trust me when I say, I'm bringing you here because I need you. You are," she breathed in deeply not wanting to tell him about how she truly felt, how she thought that maybe he could be the one. She had thought, for some time, that Aegon was the one.

Little girls are told as soon as they can comprehend language, that a man will be 'the one'. No one ever explains what that means. But you're expected to understand, that one day, you will fall in love with a man and that love means you and him will be together forever. You will bear his children, you will hold his name, and you will never acknowledge who you were before you laid your eyes on him. He is everything. You have worked your entire life to see him, to know him, to unite with him, and in the process you sacrifice yourself. Arya refused to do this. Yes, she was raised in the church, among people who sought damnation for homosexuals, people who truly thought women were incapable of making decisions for themselves; but the church taught one thing she took with her and that is humility. Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

"Beware the sheep in wolves clothing," Gendry laughed, "For they will try to conquer the earth."

"If that were true, it would've already happened, Arya argued."

She grabbed his hand even tighter, still feeling a twinge in herself knowing that the man who stood beside her was a man of faith and said, "I'll stand with you, as if you were Oedipus retrieving Eurdicye. The underworld is no match for our love."

He stared at her with a blank expression, while she looked at him with bewilderment, " I love you, Arya Stark. I don't think," he took his free hand and ruffled it through his short hair, "I don't think I've ever said that before, but it doesn't make it less than true. I love you. I think I've loved you from the moment I first laid eyes on you," he admitted.

"I love you too," she shyly responded. She didn't truly know if she felt the same way, but she had always been taught that it was better to be safe than sorry. She knew she still over Aegon, hell if he had come in at that very moment and proclaimed his love for her she probably would've b-believe it. But there was no knight in shining armor, just her and Gendry staring each other down while he held her daughter in her hand. She had to tell him she loved him, because it wasn't a lie, right?

Arya had taken some extra time to get ready this morning, making sure that she looked absolutely perfect for her first meeting with her Seattle friends in months. She'd be lying if she said she didn't miss them, or their teasing. Although she could do without the former, it was weird going to work everyday and not having your co-workers tease you and treat you like you're the sister they love to hate. She adored Sansa and Willas and Cassandra, they were good people, but in all honesty they weren't her people. She didn't go through her residency with them, she did that with Aegon. He was the only constant in her adult life and right now, being in this city a few minutes car drive from him, is making her shake. She loves him, she knows she does, but is she in love with the idea of him or him?

"Arya," Bran interrupted her thoughts, "You look like you're somewhere else."

She coughed slightly, "No, I'm here. Bran," she breathed in, "I promise I'm here."

"If you were here," he pressed, that what were we talking about?"

Arya thought she could lie, but even she knew that Bran would see right through her façade, the two of them had grown much closer since the death of Samuel. He was the only one who didn't chastise her for going to Jordan, he told her that he may not have understood why she did what she did, but that he'd be there for her when she came back. He trusted her and she needed that so badly, when everything in her life was crashing down, he was the only constant, so she said, "I'm sorry Bran, I don't remember. I wasn't paying attention."

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?"

"There's nothing to think about, not anymore," she confessed.

"You know he hasn't stopped thinking about you. All you have to do is say the words and he'll be there for you. The ball is in your court."

She slammed her drink down on the table, "I don't want it in my court," she seethed through her teeth, the anger was apparent as her face was flushed red, "I didn't want any of this."

"What," Bran prodded, "Two men vying for your attention? And you can't choose because neither man has a fault."

Arya huffed, blowing a piece of her auburn hair out of her face, "They both have their faults."

"Which are?" Bran inquired, slyly taking a sip of his Diet Coke.

She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts, before responding, "Aegon is infuriating. He makes me so mad sometimes; he makes me want to pull my hair out over the fact that he can't simply say what's on his mind. I wouldn't be in this mess, I wouldn't have even thought about going to Chicago if he could have just told me how he felt. And then there's Gendry, Gendry's the most perfect guy you could ever ask for. The way he cares abut Tom and how he looks at Rhaenys it's enough to make any woman's heart melt."

"But you're not in love with him," Bran interrupted.

"I love him," she retorted, "But we've only known each other a short while. I don't love him like I loved Aegon, but I could. I really think I could," she confessed.

"That's a lie and you know it."

"Bran," Arya scolded, "I don't need to hear this right now. Please," her eyes looked at him with pure sadness. She had been through so much, the annoying resident from Mercy West who would go no where without her red notebook was now sitting in front of him a woman grown with two children and only one to tuck in at night. He would have never assumed they would be friends back then, but time changes people, it breaks people.

"I'm not saying this to hurt you, Arya. But you made a decision when you left and I thought I was helping you make the right one. Aegon was being an ass, he's still an ass," Bran added, "But that doesn't mean he's an ass who doesn't love you. Swallow your pride and tell him how you feel."

"And how do I feel?" She asked, raising her eyebrow at him.

"In love."

"You know this would be so much simpler if Gendry wasn't in the picture. I could run back to Aegon, splay my arms out like a crazy person, and tell him that it was always meant to be. But that's not the case and I'm not that girl," she took a sip of her drink, "And as much as you all think I'm that girl she's never been me. I've never needed a man to complete me, never thought it was important. Maybe that's why I stayed a virgin for so long, I was convinced that no man would ever love me so I decided to never try. Because why hope for something you know you'll never be able to have?"

Bran reached across the table to grab her hand; he wanted to use the other to wipe the tears from her face as she made her last confession. He knew how low her self-esteem used to be, how low it still is, that the sheer thought of even being in a relationship with someone was something she didn't think she deserved or could ever have, it hurt him. She was like a sister to him, as much as he hated to admit it, she had made him soft and she made him care, "Arya, you deserve to be loved. And you are."

"Bran," her voice barely making any sound, as she tried not to break out into a full sob, "I don't think I could survive him leaving me again."

"So you're going to stay with Gendry?" He didn't chastise her or sound disappointed, he just asked the question poignantly.

"He loves me, he really does. One day, I'll love him to."

"And what if that day never comes?" He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand as she looked him in the eye and replied.

"Then I'll truly know what it means to have loved and lost."

They finished their lunch without mentioning Gendry, Aegon, or the impeding gala.

Arya pinned her hair up off her neck while she took a body shower, trying to wash her conversation with Bran off. She knew it wouldn't work. Nothing, except for facing the issue, fixed it; she knew that all to well from her time in Jordan. But nonetheless, the hot water still felt magical as it hit her pale skin forcefully. She could have stood there forever if Gendry hadn't opened the bathroom door, face still looking down at the ground so as not to see her, because they still hadn't had sex. It wasn't like Arya didn't want it, now that she wasn't a virgin she was perfectly aware of what she was missing, but it didn't mean she didn't want to have sex. Her body ached for a man to touch her in ways only a husband should, to be known by a man, to have him know her in the most intimate of ways. When she was younger, the thought of being naked in front of someone, having them judge her, thinking her breasts were too small, nipples oddly shaped, or that her skin had too many freckles, scared her half to death. Now, she couldn't help but wish that Gendry would take off his clothes and join her in the shower.

"You've been in here a while, are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm fine," she replied.

"Arya," he said slowly, "I know being here is hard. But I'm here, whatever you need. We can leave, if you want. Whatever you want, we'll do."

She breathed in heavily, putting the razor down that she was using to shave her legs, "No, Gendry. I don't want to leave. I need to face this. I need to face him. I'll be okay."

He looked a bit solemn, from what she could tell through the foggy glass door of the hotel shower, "Okay," he said, "But just so you know, I don't need to go to some fancy gala or be around people who I know don't know me or like me, but I'll do it for you because I," he took a deep breath and Arya hoped that he wouldn't say what she knew he was going to say while she was naked in the shower, desperately trying to maneuver her legs in a position that allowed them to be shaved, "I love you. There I said it," he confessed, "I Gendry Syrioiel Waters love you."

Arya stood there, shocked. She knew the words were coming, but that didn't mean she was any more prepared for them. She was naked, afraid, and seriously about to knick her ankle because she just held the razor to her calf. Pressed it in without thinking, and before she knew it the words left her lips, "I love you too."

"You don't have to say it, because I said it," he replied sadly, "I know what you and him had what Hannah and I had, I wouldn't hold it against you to go to him. And I'm not telling you I love you to manipulate you, I'd never want that. I just figured I'd be honest, because it's true Arya, you make me happier than I ever thought I could be."

"Gendry," she said calmly, "I love him. I do," she confessed, "But he hurt me more than I've ever been hurt in my entire life. He said things to me that made me feel like I was a monster. He isn't the man I fell in love with, no that man die when our son did. He's different now. He's a stranger. But you, you're someone I never thought I needed. You're kind and selfless; the way you look at Rhaenys makes my heart swell with joy. The only thing that's upsetting me is that you're not in this shower with me."

He quickly removed his shirt and pants, revealing his chiseled stomach that Arya wasn't foreign too. Just because they hadn't had sex, up until this point, didn't mean that they had never seen each other naked. She used to hate the thought of another man seeing her naked, in the way that God had made her, she thought he would hate her body. Most people hated her personality so why not her body too? But Gendry was different, the first time they had seen each other naked was a week after Aegon had left, he was stressed over his day at work, pacing around his apartment like a mad man and the only thing Arya could think to do to calm him was to seduce him. It was stupid and slightly foolish, but it worked. Before long, he was caressing her breast in one hand while she was holding him in her own; it was the most intimate position she had ever been in, apart from having sex with Aegon.

"Arya," he sighed as he looked into her eyes, "I want you."

"I want you too."

He immediately took her small frame and pinned her against the wall of the shower, not forcefully, but enough for Arya to know he'd be the dominant one in the relationship. She was facing the shower wall, her hands splayed out about shoulder width apart and her bare ass there for him to see. She didn't say anything, she knew what was coming and she couldn't have been more apprehensive for it. She invited him into the shower, she told him she loved him, and so the next logical step would be this. But it didn't make her any less unsure, it didn't make her any less apprehensive when he rubbed himself on her inner thigh, she could tell her was hard, but she couldn't tell if she was wet. His tall and broad frame blocked the showerhead from reaching her, so if anything she was cold, that's all she knew.

"Arya," he panted sensing her fear, "If you don't want to, we don't have to. I'm fine with leaving."

She stared at the tile for a second, lost in thought at how someone could have made it, it was so intricately placed and she admired the craftsman who put it together, "No," she replied stonily, "I want you," she turned to face him and pressed her lips to his. She felt a fire burn deep in her core as they moved in sync with one another, and as her hand grabbed his in a feverish attempt to get close to him, he inserted himself into her. She was caught off guard a bit, but wasn't disappointed; she turned towards him and maintained eye contact as he was thrusting inside of her. Her arm was placed on the back of his neck as she made noises that she hadn't dreamt of making in a long time. He was gentle with her, but not so she couldn't come, but so that she didn't feel like this wasn't her choice. Because it was, in this very moment, as she had Gendry inside of her and wrapped around her fingers, she completely forgot that Aegon Targaryen had ever even existed.

She pinned her hair up so it was off of her neck, put some red lipstick on her lips, and place the diamond necklace that her mother had gotten her for graduating med school around her neck. Her emerald green dress had still fit her like a glove, she had been thrilled at the fact, two children later and the dress that she bought for fancy occasions such as this, still fit. She was unsure as to why she bought it in the first place, she was with Kimmie shopping in Seattle and saw it and fell in love. Kimmie insisted that she buy it, because she never knew when she might need it. Arya had been so reluctant, because it wasn't like it was a black cocktail dress that she could wear from first date to a meeting with her boss; not this was an emerald green gown that reached the floor that had a sweetheart neckline that made her porcelain skin pop. This was something that only teenagers bought when they were shopping for their prom dresses, but there Arya was buying this dress for an occasion she didn't have, solely because Kimmie said she looked breath taking in it.

"Do you need me to zip you up?" Gendry asked.

"Yes, that'd be great."

"You look gorgeous by the way." She could feel his breath on her neck.

"Thank you. You do too."

"Arya," she turned around to the sound of his voice, "I don't regret what we did. But I do, if you do."

She took a moment to think, did she regret it? It had been a few hours since their shower and it's extraneous activities, she didn't doubt that she held some type of love for Gendry Waters in her, but she didn't know if it was the right kind of love. "I'm fine, I promise."

He stared into her eyes, "Arya," he slowly replied, "I can tell you're not. Please, talk to me."

She placed her arms around his neck and said, "Gendry, you worry too much. And it makes me love you all the more, but when I tell you I'm fine, I mean it. You and I will go back to Chicago and forget that this night has ever happened. Seattle will be a small blip in our memory, this isn't where we belong," she hesitated a bit before continuing, "This isn't where I belong. Not anymore," she croaked back tears, "Time has moved me on to bigger an better things. Promise me we'll leave in the morning, please."

"I promise," he said as he kissed her softly, his slightly chapped lips reaching hers. In this movement she felt completely and utterly safe in his arms, because she knew that everything he did was out of love and respect even if everything she did wasn't.

Arya arrived at the gala and before she could even scan the ballroom to get a good idea of who was there, she saw Aegon. Her ex-husband, father of her daughter who was currently with her grandparents, and former best friend looking at her. She wanted nothing more than to go over to him and ask him how his night was going, congratulate him on planning such an affair, and to simply just talk to him because the Arya Stark who knew Aegon Targaryen as a resident knew that this wasn't something he ever wanted. He was never one to care about his family name, but he did for the sake of the hospital after the plane crash. He did that for all of them; it was one of the most selfless things he could have done, but no one cared. They just turned and looked at him like he was some sort of foreign being they had to pass in order to get their plans passed, but Arya knew better. Arya knew the sacrifice Aegon had made so that his friends could keep Seattle Grace Mercy West, and what a cost he paid for it.

He looked at her from across the room, where he was standing with Daenerys, and he saw the woman he thought he fell in love with; love women who used to be his best friend. The woman who he started his internship with, the woman who never judged him based on his name, his face, or his family; the woman who at one point, he naively thought he would spend the rest of his life with. He imagined he'd grow old with Arya Kepener, long after their children would flee the nest; they'd still be together. But time has a funny of way of fucking with you. And so, here he stands, a single man, watching his ex-wife be brought in to a gala that he'd planned with another man on her arm, staring at him as if he lights the world.

This was a woman who cared not for those types of things cared only about someone's integrity. Who were they? What did they want? Who did they fight for? It wasn't like the days of old where one family was against another it was so similar because friends fought friends and foes fought for foes. But still and when she walked into that room with him on her arm couldn't help but feel a sense of dread

. That was his wife where in in the amazing emerald green dress, the same color as the dress she wore to Bailey's wedding when he realized that she was his and he hers, she wore jewelry except for the small bracelet that he bought her years ago. He knew she wasn't trying to draw attention to herself, but with auburn hair as Gendry as hers and skin that shone under any light, she'd be a fool to think no one would pay attention to her, least of all him.

He looked at her intently, studied her smile and the way she held Gendry close to her, he couldn't tell if it was jealously that he felt or pity. Maybe baby she was happier with someone new. He didn't know their entire story, he didn't know how they met, didn't know if they were friends before hand or anything like that. He only knew what they had. They were friends starting their intern year and that friendship had grown when the shooter came to the hospital when they had moved in with one another and Jon. And after that he didn't know how it happened or when it happened or why it happened but it happened at the boards they had sex.

He was her first. He was the first man to touch her to feel her to know her see everything about her but he didn't run away. He was surprised at that fact, that she hadn't run away like some screaming virgin who cared more about God than the fact that she had a man inside of her. He cared for her; he cared about whatever she cared. At the time, he had never imagined himself with Arya Stark, and now looking back he can't imagine himself without her.

It pains him to say they're no longer friends. Friends call each other and talk about things other than their responsibilities. They talk about their fears and hopes and desires. He and Arya no longer do that. Once upon a time, they had a son, a beautiful so who never got to experience life. He died long before Aegon or Arya Catherine anyone else do something He remembers quite fondly how much Arya had loved their little boy, how exited she was to meet him, how good of a mother she would have been. But sadly, that wasn't meant to be. . So they got divorced because the two of them couldn't handle it the death of their son, couldn't get past the what ifs. What if he became the leader of the mathletes, or prom king, or student body president, or nothing he couldn't have even graduated high school for all they know but they won't know because they'll never get the chance. Rhaenys might. She might be line at the end of the tunnel of everything that was dark and dreary from Samuel. And that was the only thing that kept him going.

"You look very handsome tonight," Daenerys complimented him interrupting his thoughts.

"Thank you," he coldly responded.

"Aegon," she hesitated before taking his hand in hers.

"You're my brother, and you know I love you, but for the love of God don't be stupid. She's right there in front of you tell her how you feel."

He looked Daenerys Square in the eye, slightly impressed by her naivety but replied with the same demeanor he had held all night, "She doesn't want me She's with him now and I'm not going to ruin that for her. I've ruined too much already."

"You sound like a martyr."

"She's happy, that's all that matters," he replied as he clasped his hands together in front of him and stated longingly as Arya walked into the ballroom with Gendry Waters on her arm and a smile plastered across her face. As jealous and hurt as he was, he couldn't deny that it made him feel happy to see her happy. He hadn't seen her smile that since their wedding day, it was a pure, unadulterated smile, with nothing holding it back. No pain, no expectations, and especially no grief, He wasn't going to be the one to rip that away from her. He loved her, he still loves her, and because of that, he's willing to let her be with someone else. If he makes her happy, the n that's all Aegon could have ever wanted.

"I don't know why we're required to come to these things," Jon huffed, she hated being forced into a ball gown that was bigger than the wedding dress she bought for Izzie and Bran's impromptu wedding. She was a grown woman, almost forty, wearing a dress that she was positive a high schooler was wearing to prom right now.

"We do it to save lives," Ygritte laughed, "Besides, when else do we get to dress up and forget for a night?"

"Ygritte," Jon groaned, "I'd rather be naked under a single sheet looking out at the stars than in this stuffy room with a bunch of white men who have more money than they know what to do with and so they hold it over our heads because they find it to be an entertaining game to watch us beg."

"I'm richer than most of the men here," he began, "Maybe you could give me your pitch."

"Dr. Shepherd," she laughed, "Do you not remember the prom?"

"I think my memory's a bit foggy."

Jon chuckled slightly before leading her husband to an exam room, like she had so many years ago.

The night had gone smoothly, Arya had caught up with some of her old co-workers, and she danced with Gendry and had a few glasses of champagne. She was glad she had came. She truly felt like she could finish this chapter of her life, but it didn't make it any less bittersweet.

"You look beautiful tonight," Sandor complimented.

"Thank you, Dr. Clegane. You look very dashing as well," she smiled back.

"I'm incredibly proud of what you're doing, for those soldiers," he added, "Especially since."

"Sandor," the tone in her voice gave a warning sign, "He doesn't know and he doesn't need to know."

"Arya you were caught in sniper fire, you spent months in rehab and you didn't tell him. You need to tell him."

"What good would it do now?"

"He may forgive you for staying so much longer than you intended."

"I don't need his forgiveness, not anymore."

"Arya," Sandor warned, "You spent months trying to learn how to walk again and you never told your husband. Now, you're running a program helping people with the same issues that you once had. You served your country, you did your duty, there's no need to still feel as if you're paying for your past crimes."

"I'll keep that in mind Sandor," she said as she spun on her heel and turned to join her old Seattle friends.

"So you're the infamous Gendry Waters?" A slightly drunk Alys asked.

"That would be me."

"You're much cuter than we thought you'd be. I mean, not that Arya couldn't get a cute guy, but after Aegon, well who could top him?" Alys laughed.

"He certainly is a tough act to follow," Gendry politely responded.

Suddenly he felt someone's arms wrapped around his neck and he turned his head slightly to see his girl standing behind him, "Hey," she softly whispered in his ear.

"Hey you," he said back.

"Is it me or do I feel like they're undressing each other with their eyes?" Jon stated.

"My eyes," Bran groaned.

"Oh shut up you guys, you've all had sex in the hospital and you thought no one could hear you," Arya rebutted.

"It's not like you didn't do it either," Alys laughed.

Arya shot her a disapproving look, "Thanks a lot Alys."

"If it makes you feel better I had sex in the hospital all the time, before," Gendry added.

"It doesn't," Arya sighed, "But thank you for trying."

"Well, since we're on the topic of sex and where we're having it, me and Ygritte just did it in the bathroom, very spacious, I'd highly recommend it," Jon sarcastically added.

"You did not," Alys smacked Jon's shoulder, "Again? Can you not go to a black tie function without fucking your husband?"

"Seems like I can't."

"So, how long did Aegon take to put this thing together? I would have never thought he'd do something like this," Arya tried to change the subject.

"About a month," Bran answered.

"Yeah, he came into the board meeting one day like he had a fire lit under his ass and was adamant that we do this to earn money for the hospital. I thought we could just auction me off to do some surgeries at other hospitals, seeing as I am _that_ desirable. But he insisted on this," Alys stated as she took another sip of her gin and tonic.

"He acted like a little boy with the planning," Jon added, "He insisted we have hydrangeas as the flowers, mini hotdogs with the crescent rolls wrapped around them, and this special brand of champagne that he had to have flown in from Columbus.

Arya listened diligently; the wheels were turning in her head as she made the very real observation that Aegon had done this for her.

"Well, he did a very good job," Arya smiled, "He should be very proud."

"I'll be sure to tell him," Bran smiled; knowing that Arya was feeling extremely conflicted. Here she was with a man behind her, his hand intertwined with hers, smelling the top of her head in the most intimate of ways, and laughing with her friends. They looked comfortable with one another, hell if Bran hadn't known the passion that Arya and Aegon used to feel he would have thought that these two were made for each other. But he could see the look of confusion on her face when she realized that Aegon had done this entirely for her, right down to the very last detail. He basically told her was still in love with her by throwing a giant party, he wouldn't have expected any less theatrics from Aegon.

The night was drawing to a close and Gendry went to go fetch the car from the valet, so Arya waited by the entrance when Aegon walked up to her with his hands in his pockets, nervously flipping through the spare change that was still in them.

"You look very beautiful tonight, Arya," he said softly, "green was always your color."

"Thank you."

He turned to walk away, but then she said, "You did really well tonight. I can't believe you planned all of this, without your mother's help."

"Are you suggesting that you didn't think I could do this?" He toyed.

"No," she drug the word slowly, "I'm just saying that this isn't you. The Harper Targaryen life. But it suits you. It really does."

"I'm glad you liked it."

"I really did," she awkwardly replied.

Gendry pulled the car around and got out to open the passenger door for her.

She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, "I had a wonderful time, Aegon. Thank you for doing this for me. I loved it."

He looked at her in disbelief as she began to walk away, "I love you," he croaked out, but she didn't hear him. Instead she kissed the tall blonde man who closed the passenger door behind her and drove off with him. He didn't know that would be the last time he'd see her red hair or hear her voice, for three desperately long years, she was out of his life, gone without a trace.


	12. Chapter 12

It had been three years since he'd seen her, three long, lonely years. He still saw Rhaenys of course, but he and Arya had both mutually agreed that Catherine would be their mediator; they just couldn't be around each other. They needed to move on. That was until Arya Stark's husband Gendry Waters died in a hotel fire, and the first time he saw his former best friend and ex-wife, in three years, was at her husband's funeral.

He had loved Arya from afar this entire time, not once forgetting the scent of her lavender shampoo or the way she'd laugh like a banjee at the most mundane of romantic comedies. But because he loved her, he let her go. He didn't pester her after she got in the car with him. He didn't drive out to Chicago after they were engaged to tell her that this wasn't meant to be, that she should be with him. He let her go. He was happy for her, happy that she got the happy ending that she had so desperately wished for. Never once would he have wished their next meeting to be like this, with her sitting with their daughter in her lap, Gendry's son next to her and a few people who he didn't recognize surrounding her, one woman had her hand on Arya's shoulder while a man, who had to be her husband sat solemnly next to Arya, watching as her husband's casket gets lowered into the ground.

He didn't know why he came, he felt terribly out of place. But she mattered to him and this was arguably the hardest moment of her life, so he wanted to be there for her. He would have gone to her wedding, she had invited him after all, but given her last wedding and what he said, he figured it would be best to stay in Seattle. He didn't come to rub it in or to revel in her pain, he came solely because she used to be his best friend and he loves her and the only thing he wants to do is be with her. Cradle her in his arms and stroke her auburn hair that still cascaded over her shoulders, and whisper sweet nothings in her ear telling her that it's going to be alright. The world hasn't stopped turning and there are still more tomorrows to seek out. She has two beautiful children who are alive and smiling, friends who adore her, a career that's never been better; she's Arya Stark she can get through this. She's a solider.

He was playing with Rhaenys when she approached him, he hadn't seen her in a month and she definitely was too young to comprehend what was happening. However, little Tom wasn't, he was about eight from what Tomson could guess and the boy looked like his entire world had been ripped out from under him. Alex had told him a bit about Gendry's son, saying he was quiet and a bit reserved and didn't really trust much after his mom died. But he and Arya had a special bond; something that Tomson would be lying if he didn't say made him a bit jealous. But Alex had also told him that Gendry was Tom's entire world, that boy worshiped the ground his father walked on. Tomson knew that this must be hard for the little boy, be he hasn't the slightest idea of what to say to him to make it better.

"I didn't think you would come," she hesitantly said, twitching her thumbs back and forth, a nervous habit he noticed she had recently picked up.

"I know it's been so long, Arya," he sighed, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"Neither did I. The phone works both ways doesn't it?" She let out a little laugh. Neither of them tried to not communicate, it wasn't as if there was hatred between them, just too many open wounds that time needed to heal. But if he could, he would have taken it all back. He would have run after her the day of the gala and begged her to not get into the car with him. Gendry was a great guy, even Tomson couldn't deny that, he respected him and made sure that he wasn't replacing Tomson as Rhaenys's father. If Tomson wanted another man to raise his daughter, Gendry was the perfect one, and he made Arya happy in a way that he couldn't. He loved her so much that he let her go, but if he didn't would she be in as much pain as she is in now? He can't help but feel guilty.

"Arya," he said softly, "Are you okay?"

"Tomson, my husband just died. What am I supposed to do now? I can't," and then she completely broke down in front of him, hid her face in his chest as he stroked her hair and whispered in her ear that it'd be okay. Even if he thought it were a lie, he was going to tell her that until time stood still. She will always be safe in his arms. And he isn't going to let her go any time soon.

"Hey, hey," he soothed her, "I got you."

She spent the rest of the funeral crying in his arms, barely looking up at anyone else. Tomson could tell they were looking at them, judging, confused, whatever other emotions they could conjure up he didn't care. This isn't how he wanted to see her for the first time in years, as a broken woman, arguably more broken than when they had lost Samuel. But he'd be lying if he didn't say that he was more than happy to see her. It's like everything that had been missing in his life had just become clear. And for that, he couldn't help but smile.

Arya and Sansa had decided to meet each other for lunch, at their usual coffee shop. It was a bit after 9:00, so the morning rush was gone and they got a table quickly. She also put her house on the market this morning, only a week after his funeral, she had decided that she didn't want to stay there; the memories would be too much for her. She needed to go back to Seattle, to go back to where things felt safe and familiar. Where she could be around people who had felt this loss too many times to count. So, she decided to pull Tom out of school in Chicago for next year, resign at Northwestern Medical Center, and booked a one-way ticket for three to Seattle. She discussed it at length with Sansa, Willas, and Gendry's mother; they all believed that Tom would benefit from a fresh start just as much as her.

"I can't help but feel like I'm taking everything he knows away from him," Arya said, taking a sip of her coffee.

Sansa put her hand out on the table, gesturing for Arya to take it, and looked at her with a sort of painful smile on her face, "You're not taking everything away, you're giving him a whole new life. Chicago has taken so much from that little boy, maybe Seattle will be able to give him something back."

"I don't know if I'm even ready to go back there," Arya confessed, "But what is there left for me here?" She didn't mean it as a slight towards her friend Sansa or anyone else she'd met in Chicago. Everyone had been wonderful. But none of them would ever be Gendry again and that part stung too much for her. She was a widow. She had a dead son. She was wounded in combat. She's a survivor, but that doesn't mean that surviving hasn't become painful.

"We will always be your family, Arya," Sansa soothed, "You say the word and we'll fly out to see you. We're here for you."

Arya just gazed out the window, hearing Sansa's words but not really digesting them, "At least he's with Jeyne now," she let out a little laugh, "He told me I'd be a fool not to try to work things out with Tomson. He said you only get a love like that once in a lifetime. I got it twice. And now, they're both gone."

When Arya got into the car with Gendry at the gala, she knew in her heart that letting Tomson go was the hardest thing she'd ever done. Not telling him how much she wanted to be with him, but logic kept her head on straight and caused her to not look back. But she grew to love Gendry, even more than she loved Tomson. He was kind, shared similar beliefs, and they never argued like she and Tomson did. Was a certain passion missing, maybe? It wasn't a love that caused you to rip your hair out because your partner was just so incredibly frustrating, it was a slow burn. The type of love where you can imagine yourself in thirty years, drinking tea, sitting on the wrap around porch on your rocking chairs, just watching the sunrise in silence. It was safe.

But sometimes, even the most perfect of visions never come to be. Arya thought about the day that she watched her husband's casket lower into the ground, and how she placed a single red rose on top of it while the singer sung Amazing Grace, as cliché as that is, and yet she didn't feel broken. Not like she had when Samuel died. She mourned Gendry's death, but her world didn't shatter, she got up the next morning and the world kept turning. She didn't know how to feel about that.

"Arya," Sansa urged with a bit of tension in her voice, "He loved you."

"I know," she solemnly stated, looking down at the table, "But not like he loved her."

"Arya," Sansa tried, but was quickly interrupted.

"It's okay," she smiled, "I'm not bitter about it. I wasn't the love of his life and he wasn't mine. We made each other happy; we were good for one another, two broken people who felt some semblance of being whole. But we'd be lying if we said that I made his world turn like Jeyne did."

Sansa was stunned for a moment, then replied, "You made it turn in a different way, but there was no denying the way he felt for her."

"His world turned for her, just like mine used to turn for Tomson."

"Tomson," Sansa questioned, "Your ex?"

"We used to be so good," Arya, acknowledged, "I would tell him everything." A small smile formed on her face as she thought about the friendship that they used to share. She missed their marriage, the intimacy that came from that, but their true bond laid within their friendship. Before the complications that arose from sex or other people's expectations. They used to be two people who understood one another's every move. They were in the same boat, being interns in a new city with no friends, and clung to each other like moths to a flame when the shooting happened. They had both lost so much that only together they thought they could get through it. How naïve a thought, to think that then they had lost so much, because now they've lost so much more, it's entirely debilitating.

"You never mention him."

"It's hard," Arya, admitted, "A part of me wishes we could have worked. But that's naïve thinking."

"Why didn't you?" Sansa asked, to be honest she had always wondered why Arya was so adamant on not going back to Tomson, because to the average observer, Tomson wasn't quitting on their relationship. Arya did. Arya chose to stay here, even after they had sex, which Sansa found out about last year when Arya got piss drunk at her bachelorette party. She cried and said she couldn't marry Gendry because she'd only been with Tomson, she needed him, and she was ashamed that she was cheating on her husband.

"He loved me, I'll never doubt that. But he didn't accept me. Gendry did. Gendry made me feel seen and loved, and sure he didn't light a fire beneath me that made me weak in the knees every time I saw him. But when he spoke, when he would whisper in my ear that he loved me, that was a completely different feeling, and I'm not sure which one I prefer."

"It seems as though you've had two great loves of your life, most other women would envy you."

"I wouldn't," Arya, chastised.

"Why?" Sansa inquired. She and Arya had grown incredibly close in the past couple years, she and her did everything together. From lunches between patients, to mimosa dates while their husbands pretended to play golf but really were drinking beers and watching the football game, but the topic of Tomson Targaryen and her life in Seattle rarely, if ever came up. It was something Arya kept hidden, close to her chest, like a battle wound that she was ashamed of revealing.

"Love is the easiest and hardest thing in the world, and to decide between two great men, it's a choice no woman should be forced to make."

"But you did."

"And I wondered every day if I made the right one."

"Arya, were you not happy with Gendry?"

"No, no. I was absolutely thrilled with him, but I couldn't help the voice in my head that kept asking if maybe I had chosen Tomson that things would have been, I don't know, different. Not better, not worse, just different."

"You made the best choice for yourself at the time."

"I know."

The two women sat in silence for some time before Arya broke the tension and said, "Sansa."

"Yeah?"

"I," Arya didn't know how to tell her, she couldn't will her lips to move or her tongue to form words. So she just sat there in silence while her best friend looked at her with her deep green, doe eyes, knowing exactly what she was about to say, but also refused to acknowledge it. Because if she said it, then it'd be out in the open, and they'd have to face it. Silence was better. For now.

But Sansa was never one to enjoy tension, so she curtly added, "You're leaving soon aren't you?"

"Yeah," Arya admitted, "I think I am. I put the house on the market today."

"I'll hate to see you go, but I know you have to. Don't forget us here, Arya Stark Waters."

"I wouldn't dare dream of it."

_Arya was finishing charting for a patient when Gendry snuck up behind her, wrapped his strong arms around her torso and kissed her neck in the middle of her E.R. Normally she wasn't one for public displays of affection, but she couldn't help the way he made her feel. It had been four months since they went to Seattle, since she had fully committed herself to him. She rarely, if ever thought of Tomson, and when she did it only had to do with Rhaenys and her well-being. Catherine was gracious enough to be their mediator, knowing that Arya needed her space from Tomson and him from her. They discussed various details about Rhaenys via e-mail or text, but never saw each other face to face, it was better that way._

"_How's my fiery girlfriend doing?" He asked._

"_You're off early, slow day?"_

"_Unfortunately," he sighed._

_She playfully smacked him on the shoulder, "You want a slow day, Gendry Nathaniel Waters, that means that less people or their homes are burning."_

"_I know it sounds selfish, but I do love the action. The rush you get from a busy E.R. is the exact same one I get when I go into a building that looks like it just had a trip to hell. It's why I love you so much, you understand that feeling."_

"_I do. But I don't risk my life for it, like you do. Please," she looked at him longingly as she softly placed her palm against his cheek, "Don't play superhero too much. I need you here."_

_He picked her up, much to her surprise and twirled her in front of the entire E.R. staff, normally she'd be embarrassed, but now she didn't care. She was looking at the man she loved in the eye, only seeing him and her, and the future that they'd build together. She had never felt more loved in her life, "I'd run through every fire the earth ever sets just to get to you."_

"_I love you," she beamed as she gracefully grabbed his neck and pulled him into an alluring and powerful kiss, her body flowed with energy and passion. He was it. He was everything she could have ever hoped to need and want, and he was all hers, they took a breath, "I don't ever want to live without you."_

"_Arya," he asked, politely as he looked at her with longing eyes, "On call room?"_

_Arya looked around the E.R.; there weren't any emergent cases that the residents or other attendings couldn't handle. It was quiet. So, she looked her boyfriend in the eye, her guy from Wisconsin who screamed sensationally at the Packers and critiqued every craft beer she offered him, the one who threw a football with his son every day after school but not before he had finished his homework, the one who let Rhaenys dance on his feet while some Disney princess ballad was playing, the guy who made her heart sing._

"_I could spare a few moments," she teased._

"_After you then, milady."_

_The two of them rushed, like high school kids who were afraid of their parents catching them in the act, to the on call room. They stripped naked in record time, barely having a chance to breathe before her bare breast was right there for the taking. He looked at her longingly, each time they were intimate he had the same expression of complete and utter surprise that a woman like her would want someone like him. A firefighter from Wisconsin, he wasn't all the smart and he wasn't the best man in the world. He was less religious than he should be, he cursed too much, he drank more than his fair share of beer, and he wallowed in his grief over the loss of Jeyne more than he would have wanted. But that hadn't deterred Arya, because she had her own demons too. He wasn't grateful for that, he hated the idea that she had been hurt in the past, but it allowed her to understand him more and for that he was grateful._

"_Come her," he whispered as he lifted her up onto the bed and straddled over the top of her._

"_I love you," she beamed, as he kissed her again, this time down her neck._

"_I know," he smiled, "You tell me all the time."_

"_I want to be with you forever."_

_He immediately perked up," Arya, are you saying what I think you're saying?"_

_It was certainly not the most romantic way to purpose to someone. She had never thought that she'd be the one to do it, and during foreplay, was definitely not how her Christian parents raised her._

"_No, Arya you're not telling me that, not right now. I'm going to ask you, properly. Exactly when you least expect it."_

"_Oh are you?" She teased._

"_Yes, I am." And then his head was between her legs and neither of them said anymore._

Arya was packing up her and Gendry's house, it had been a month since he died and the house had already sold. That's what she gets for moving in with a guy with a beautiful home in the best school district. His mom Cassandra, came down from Wisconsin and helped her stage the house and his dad, Alan did some last minute repairs. Tom was very elated to see his grandparents again.

"Arya," Cassandra called from the kitchen, "Will you need these mixing bowls or can we put them in the donate pile?"

"I do like to cook," Arya admitted, "It's probably best if I keep those."

"Alright, darling."

"Cassandra," the woman turned and looked at her, "I don't think I can donate any of it. Maybe some of the furniture, but I want to," she looked down at the ground, not wanting to be the one who needed help. She was speaking to his mother, as a woman who had lost a son, she knew exactly what kind of pain Cassandra was going through; "I need to."

"Miss Arya," her mother in law came towards her, ignoring the pile of kitchen utensils and mixing bowls that were cluttered in the cupboards, "You do not need to be strong for me. I am a woman grown, I can handle this and so can you."

"It's just that, I lost a son. So, I know what you're going through."

"I know," she comforted Arya with her soft touch on her palm, "Gendry told me."

"He did?"

"Of course he did, that boy told me everything. He truly loved you, you know?"

"I know."

"And he loved your little girl and there isn't a doubt in my mind that he would have loved your son too."

Arya hesitated for a bit, if her son had lived, she never would have gone to Jordan, she and Tomson would hypothetically still be together, and Gendry would have never been in the picture. But it's not wise to think in what ifs, the world does not stop, it just keeps going regardless of if we're ready to get up and move with it.

"What was he like?" Cassandra wondered, "Your son?"

A feeling of pure joy spread over Arya's face over being asked that question. Most people ignored the subject or simply asked how he died and then offer their condolences. She didn't hate that people would do that, it just felt insincere, and she's not a paper doll who can't handle her emotions. Her son died. She knows that better than anyone else.

"I called him my little Buddha, because he wasn't moving inside of my belly due to his diagnosis. Before though, I knew he was going to be calm. Like a still river. He was going to be studious, much to Tomson's chagrin; he would have wanted him to play sports. He even bought him a Red Sox onesie," Arya laughed at the memory, "But I knew deep down that Samuel wouldn't be that type of boy. He'd be a looker for sure, with Tomson's skin complexion and eyes, with my nose and ears. And then I gave birth to him," Arya had to pause for a moment, even though it happened years ago, the wound was still fresh in her mind and her heart, "I saw a little boy who would go running in the woods with his siblings, who'd climb trees like there's no tomorrow, someone who'd make all the friends in the world, and who'd love fiercely. I saw a life. And in an instant that life was gone," she finally looked up at Cassandra, "Losing Samuel hurt more than anything, but what hurt more was losing the life that he could have lived, that I could have lived. The what if, that still plagues me to this day."

"Sweetheart, we can't prevent what we can't predict," Cassandra stated solemnly, "I couldn't prevent Gendry from going into that fire any more than you could have, but he did. And now he's gone and we have a responsibility, no an obligation to keep moving. You've done it before, you can do it again."

"Cassandra, can you be honest with me?" Arya asked.

"Of course."

"Is it wrong, me going to Seattle? Should I stay here for Tom? I don't want to take him from his home, from everything and everyone he knows. I just, I feel like I'm being selfish."

"That little boy has lost both his parents here, he doesn't have many friends because people don't understand, and he isn't living here like he should be. Give him a fresh start. It helped you when you came to Chicago, maybe it'll help him when you go to Seattle."

"Thank you."

"But I still expect weekly e-mails and texts constantly. You're taking my grandson over a thousand miles away and a grandma still needs her updates on both of her grandchildren," she teased.

"I think I can handle that."

"Come on, dear," Cassandra got up, "We've got a lot more packing to do."

Arya went into Rhaenys's room, opened the white door with a crystal knob that Gendry had specially put on for her, citing that a princess deserves a knob that glows. She closed the door behind her and slid down it slowly, finally reaching the floor and breaking down. She let the tears fall like waterfalls, because her husband was gone; all because he wanted to be a stupid hero. All heroes ever do is die or live long enough to live with the regret of their glory days. Heroes gain nothing but death and destruction. She opened her eyes, which were still glossy with tears, and looked around the room, the room that he built from scratch for Rhaenys and her heart broke a bit more at the thought that he'd never get to build another one.

_She had moved in with Gendry in June, seeing her two-bedroom apartment as a bit too small since Rhaenys was now almost three. Moving in with Gendry was a great decision, he drove her to work every morning, made her coffee as well, and sung her praises every chance he could get. He let her go wild with the house and redecorating, but Arya didn't change much, only adding a few throw pillows here and there. The space felt like theirs because when she moved in, Gendry had prepared a special surprise for her._

_There was a spare bedroom, one that he and Jeyne had actually reserved for another child, but since Jeyne's passing, it had only been collecting dust. So, for the month before Arya officially moved in he spent every weekend and free minute he had fixing it up to make it perfect for Rhaenys. He was joining her family just as much as she was joining his and she and Rhaenys were a package deal, the sweetest package anyone could ask for. So, he painted the walls a pale lavender color, put her name in block letters on the walls, bought a bookshelf and filled it with one-hundred books to read before you die, although he didn't tell the two and a half year old that at the time. He placed his father's old record player in the corner, with a few of his favorite albums, and a rocking chair. Rhaenys was a bit too old to rock, but no one can deny that sitting in a rocking chair listening to some old song that you remember from your childhood and closing your eyes and just letting your body sway with the beat, is an incredibly soothing and powerful feeling._

_Arya had been shocked when he showed her Rhaenys's room. She could hardly contain herself, she remembers vividly leaping up, straddling her legs around his waist, and kissing him deeper than she had ever before. She tried not to question her decision to leave Tomson behind, but right now, in this moment, she had no reservations. This was the man that she was going to spend the rest of her life with._

"_It's just a room," he laughed._

"_But it's not just a room," she argued, "You did that all by yourself for her. She's not even your daughter and you still did that."_

"_I feel like she is," He admitted shyly. He didn't want to overstep his bounds, he respected Tomson and made sure that Rhaenys knew he was her father, but he couldn't help but feel like he was her father too. He was here, helping raise her, and over time he'd fallen in love with the little girl and the way she spits out the string beans her mother insists on feeding her. Or how every time he plays 'The Doors' she bops her head to the beat._

_Arya just couldn't contain herself and let out a hearty laugh._

_Gendry looked at her concerned and rubbed the back of his head nervously, "Arya, I didn't mean, I."_

"_I'm sorry, Gendry. But you've honestly just made me the happiest woman in the world. Of course she's your daughter. I feel like Tom's my soon too. We have a perfect family."_

"_That we do, Arya, that we do."_

"_Let's go get Rhaenys, I'm sure she'll go wild over this."_

"_I'm not sure she'll understand," Gendry stated._

"_She will one day and that's what matters."_

Arya closed the door to Rhaenys's room; she'd miss that room the most. But moving on was necessary, Gendry had told her to do so. The two of them had had many lengthy conversations regarding his profession and the possibility of him getting injured. Arya always hated the idea of it, never really wanting to explore the topic at great length because who likes thinking about their significant other dying?

_He had sat her down in the kitchen; she and Rhaenys had been living with him for three months now. There was a pot roast on the table, that Gendry had cooked himself, which could only mean one thing, he wanted something._

"_Gendry, what's the occasion?"_

"_Nothing, I just wanted to surprise you, you've been working really hard on your research. Sansa and Willas texted me insisting that you needed a break, so I sent Tom and Rhaenys to their place for the evening."_

"_And you made this?" She looked at him deceptively, arching her eyebrow a bit, "All by yourself?"_

"_Woman, do you want me to keep my pride or not?" He proclaimed._

"_Yes," she laughed, "I very much do."_

"_Well, if you must know, I may have had a one hour face-time session with my mother while she instructed me on how to make the roast."_

"_Let's see if Cassandra's a good teacher then," she teased as she grabbed her fork and took her first bite, while Gendry looked at her with apprehension written all over his face, "It's fantastic."_

_The two of them ate the rest of their dinner and by now had popped open a bottle of Pinot noir and were just sitting and talking to one another about everything and anything under the sun. That was one of the best parts of being with him, their conversations flowed like a river through a mountain, they were easy, relaxed, and completely free from judgment._

"_Arya, we've been seeing each other for a year," Gendry hesitated, "And I think I want to discuss my job."_

"_What about your job?"_

"_The possibility of," he trailed off._

"_I'd rather not talk about that right now," Arya cut him off, "We're having a nice evening, why ruin it with talk of you dying?"_

"_Well you could die too," he added, "We need to be prepared for these things. It's probably not going to happen and you and I will get married, have a dozen more kids, and grow old together. But even if that happens, we'd still need to know what the other person wants."_

_Arya sighed; she knew he was right and that there was no point in arguing. She knew she wanted to be with him, so the tough conversations were going to have to happen. She had learned from being with Tomson that communication was key, she'd be damned if she was going to make the same mistake twice, "Okay, I concede. We can talk about it."_

"_If something were to happen to me, at work or elsewhere, I want you to pull the plug."_

"_What? No, I won't do that."_

"_Arya," his voice was calm and steady as he placed his hand on hers and rubbed his thumb, ever so gently, across hers, "Let me finish."_

"_Okay."_

"_You're a doctor, you know when someone comes into your E.R. if they're a lost cause or if you should try and save them. Try and save me, obviously, but don't do anything that'll cause me more pain or that will simply continue my suffering. I'm okay with dying; it's not a scary concept for me. But what scares me more, is you living without me."_

_Arya was about to cry, but she forcefully bit her lip and croaked out, "Yeah?"_

"_I'll tell you what Sarah told me, keep living. It sounds simple, but it's not. Death crushes you, but every day it'll get a bit easier and eventually it'll hurt less and less. And then one day, you'll look back and think why was I ever so broken in the first place? So, if I die, which I'm not planning on doing," he added, "Mourn me for a bit, but then live. Go back to Seattle, sell the house, explore the world, do whatever your heart desires. But I swear, if I see you sitting in the house, not showering, not eating, and neglecting everything you are, I'll have to come back and haunt your ass."_

_She laughed at his last comment, "I could say the same for you too Gendry Waters."_

"_Promise me, promise me, you'll live? Take Tom and Rhaenys and go somewhere, away from here."_

"_You'd want me taking Tom away?"_

"_Yes," he answered, "If anything happens, I want him to get a fresh start. It'd be good for him."_

_She wrapped her hand in his, "Luckily nothing is going to happen. We're both healthy, strong, and most importantly we're together. Let's not think about things that we can't prevent. I just want to go on that couch, lie in your lap, and watch a terrible rom-com."_

"_That sounds like heaven."_

Gendry Waters was always one for words. It wasn't always what they were, Lord knows the man was no Ernest Hemingway, but it was all about his delivery. He could talk anyone off a ledge or into whatever he wanted them to do. He didn't manipulate people, more so he made them feel seen and heard with the simple hello. Arya made her way from Rhaenys's bedroom, into her and Gendry's. She still hadn't slept on his side of the bed or touched his pillows. They were starting to smell a bit. The entire room was starting to smell less and less like him. She immediately went to their closet and grabbed one of his shirts and put it on, holding it up to her nose and smelling it deeply.

On her nightstand was a picture of the day they got engaged; it had been one of the happiest of her life. The picture was taken at the exact moment he purposed, Gendry being the planner that he was, hired a photographer to catch the candid moment of him getting down on one-knee and the look of pure shock on her face.

_It was the end of summer and she had been living with him and Tom for three months now and everything was going great. Rhaenys was getting along with the neighborhood kids, Tom was the ever-doting big brother, and she and Gendry were like kids in a candy shop who couldn't keep their hands off one-another. It was a dream. She wasn't bothered that there wasn't a ring on her finger, she didn't need that, or a wedding for that matter to feel what she was feeling then; pure, unadulterated happiness._

_August 29th was the day he purposed which also was Rhaenys's first day of preschool. Arya was apprehensive about sending her, but she knew she had to. She had cried to Gendry the entire night before over the thought of Rhaenys being so far away twice a week. She worried that Rhaenys wouldn't make friends, although she had never had any problems with that before. But mostly, she had never been more than a quick jog away from Rhaenys, or Rhaenys was with family._

_So, the morning came and Gendry could tell that Arya was dragging her feet with getting ready. Insisting that she needed to iron Rhaenys's dress one last time, she redid her hair twice, and conveniently forgot to shut the garage door after the left the house. Gendry just had this cheeky grin on his face, much to Arya's annoyance._

"_You're making fun of me, aren't you?"_

"_It's her first day of pre-school, she's not dying," he teased._

"_I know that," she answered, as Gendry pulled into the parking lot, "I just hate the idea of her growing up. You know? She's my baby. I don't think I'm ready."_

"_Most people aren't."_

_They got out of the car; while Arya was helping Rhaenys out of her car seat Gendry went to go get her backpack and Tom came out to help._

"_Just like we practiced," he winked at his son._

"_Arya, I have Rhaenys's backpack," Tom offered._

_Arya looked up at him with a smile on her face, Tom was still being the perfect big brother, "Why thank you Tom."_

_He started to unzip it._

"_Tom, what are you doing?" Arya asked confused, "Is there something you need in there?"_

"_Yes."_

"_And that would be?"_

_He pulled out and illustration that he had made, of him, his dad, Arya, and Rhaenys, "I put it in her backpack so she'd remember her family. I forgot I hadn't showed it to you yet, and well."_

"_Oh Tom, it's wonderful."_

"_Turn it over," he said._

_And so she did, "Will you be my family forever?"_

"_Tom," she beamed, "Of course I will."_

_Gendry came up behind his son and knelt down on the ground and opened up a box that contained a beautiful diamond ring, circle cut, simple platinum band, everything Arya had ever wanted, "You sure about that?" He asked._

_Arya's hands were over her mouth, as she crouched over in pure happiness, still unable to comprehend what was going on. All she could think about was how messy her hair looked and that maybe this morning wasn't the greatest to wear scrubs into work, "Mhmm," she nodded as she bit her lip._

"_Well then, Arya Stark, will you do me the honor and marry me?"_

"_Yes," she exclaimed, "Absolutely yes." He slid the ring onto her finger and she got up and hugged him. Her daughter and his son, stood right next to them, and soon they joined the hug, the were officially going to become a family, and Arya had never been so happy._

She heard Cassandra calling her from downstairs, most likely telling her that she was off to pick the kids up from school, it was their last week. She was snapped out of her trance for a moment, and came back to earth.

"I don't think I can forgive you for leaving us behind, for leaving me behind," she whispered to his picture, "But I love you too much to ever hate you," she let out softly, before placing a small peck on the picture. She stood in the doorway for a few seconds, looking at their bedroom, and how it looked entirely the same from the morning he had passed. She stared so hard, that she thought just maybe if she were lucky enough that this would all turn out to be a lie, that Gendry would come running out of the bathroom clad only in a towel and chase her around the room until she joined him in the shower. But that would never happen, he's gone and she has to accept that. The carousel never stops turning. She let out a small sigh, before turning off the light to their room and heading downstairs to see what Cassandra needed.

"I'll always be with you," she whispered as she closed the door, "But I have to live."


	13. Chapter 13

Aegon Targaryen was, well an Targaryen. He didn't shake for anything, except video cameras, those made him break out in a cold sweat and faint at his high school graduation during his valedictory speech. Cameras aside, Aegon Targaryen had always been confident, strong as an oak as they'd say, when it came to other people. He was good looking, he wouldn't be bashful and deny that, charming, intelligent, and to top it off her came from a rich family. He is the total a package and normally people are gravelling at his feet, women will either come up to him with vengeance because they know he'll be a good fuck or they'll stammer over their words and stare at their shoes while he's trying to have a genuine conversation with them. Being pretty can definitely be a double-edged sword. However, he had never had a meeting like this in his life and he didn't know how to act. Would it be best to stay calm, listen to what they have to say, and try to seek out reason? Or should he blow up, roar his voice, and pull every card he can out of the Targaryen handbook. He still hadn't decided and when he walked into the dive bar on the West Side of Chicago that looked like it hadn't been updated since 1985, he tugged a bit at his maroon colored sweater and hope he hadn't overdressed.

"Aegon," Gendry greeted merrily, "Thanks for joining me." He turned around to say, "Howard, two," and looked at Aegon wondering what his drink order was.

"Beers," Aegon answered, "two beers will be just fine."

Howard handed them a couple of craft beers that were made locally from the brewery down the street and the two men went to sit down at a table. It was a Thursday night, so it hadn't been too busy, the place was quiet enough where they could hear one another speak, but not too quiet for their meeting to be filled with the awkward silence of an empty bar and the clanging of cups that the bartender puts away.

"So, how was your visit with Rhaenys? She's missed you like crazy," Gendry began.

Aegon couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy, Rhaenys was his daughter; she would always be his daughter. It'd been two months since the gala, and five weeks since he'd last seen Rhaenys. As Arya had promised he got Super Bowl Sunday and so his mother flew Rhaenys out to see him. It was an absolute delight as always and she was certainly the talk of the town at Grey Sloan Memorial. But he knew that Arya needed Rhaenys, a bit more than he did, he loved his daughter, hated every moment they were apart, but Arya needed her more. So, he didn't complain about the short visits, or the Skype calls that would suffice for a week; nothing would ever be enough if she weren't at home living with him, so he knew he'd always have to settle for second best.

"That's, uh," Aegon hesitated, "That's good to hear."

Gendry took a big swig of his beer, "Arya doesn't know I'm here."

"She doesn't?" Aegon asked, wide-eyed.

"No, and I intend to keep it that way."

"Here to threaten me Waters, I'm not trying to steal Arya back."

"No," he sighed, "It's not about that. It's about Rhaenys."

"What about her?"

"I don't want to replace you, never have and never will. I want us to try and get along because I plan on making Arya my family soon and that includes you."

"Arya and I aren't a packaged deal," Aegon groaned.

"True, but you come with Rhaenys and Rhaenys comes with Arya, ergo you're part of the package," Gendry joked, producing a small smile from Aegon's lips, "You don't need to be a stranger in her life, whenever you want to come over, take her for a weekend, call I won't stop you."

"That's good to know," he replied, "But you know you wouldn't have been able to stop me anyways," he challenged.

"The way I see it, I love that little girl as if she were my own and I see my son growing up without his mother. He feels lost and I can't do anything to help him. Arya will never be Hannah, she's kind, caring, and wickedly smart and she'll be a good mother to Tom but she'll never be his mom. And I'll be the same person with Rhaenys, she'll love me and I'll love her, but I won't be her dad. The man she'll hold with the most esteem her entire life, because trust me you can take just one look at that girl and know she's a daddy's girl. Tom's mother isn't here and Arya is a wonderful number two, probably the best a lonely guy like me from Wisconsin could ever dare to hope to find, but Rhaenys's still got her dad here. Don't make her settle for number two."

"I hate that I actually like you," Aegon muttered, the blonde man just stared at him with a glazy confused look over his face, "You care. How can I hate a man who cares about my daughter and Arya the way that you do? Of all the men that she could have ended up with besides me, I'm actually glad it was you."

"Thank you, Aegon. That truly means a lot. And I hope you know that I'll do right by them, wherever I can."

"I wouldn't expect any less."

"Arya and I are moving in together," Gendry announced taking a huge swig of his beer, lifting his head up towards the ceiling so as not to see Aegon's true reaction.

Aegon sat there, stone faced, simply tapping his index and middle finger on the table repeatedly for a few seconds, not knowing what to do. If he were being honest, he'd say he wanted to hit Gendry. Being her boyfriend was one thing, but moving in together, with a woman like Arya only meant that a ring would be on her left hand in due time. He was just getting comfortable with the idea of losing her, but to know he's lost her is a whole different story.

"Is that so?" Aegon smiled, pensively, "Arya was never the type to move in before marriage."

"We've grown close and it'll be good for Rhaenys when she starts school."

"You're thinking a bit far ahead aren't you?"

"Rhaenys will be three soon, and that's when you start preschool, we only wanted her to be in the district so she'd meet kids that'd go to the same kindergarten as her."

Aegon put his hand up in resistance, "Whoa, you're speaking way to fast. Arya and me haven't even discussed this yet. I'm sure the preschool your district is in is perfectly fine, but I am still her father and I still have a say in where my daughter goes to school."

Gendry hesitated for a moment, he wasn't aware that Arya and Aegon hadn't discussed this, he had only assumed, "Aegon, I didn't know she didn't tell you."

That's when Aegon realized that they were gone, Arya and Rhaenys were truly gone. He couldn't really be in their lives, thousands of miles away in Seattle. He'd never see her daily assignments or get her references to kids in her class. He'd always be her father, but he'd never be her dad, "Gendry, I have to get going," he said abruptly, "It was nice of you to invite me." He put some money down on the table.

Gendry immediately extended his hand out, "No, I insist. This is my treat."

Aegon didn't argue a few free bottles of beer wouldn't hurt anyone and he had actually enjoyed their conversations. Gendry was an easy-going guy who was also interested in sports, although he lost a few points for not being a sneaker-head like Aegon.

"Thanks man," Aegon said, extending his hand out for a handshake, but the big, beefy man pulled him into a tight bear hug, like a brother would do.

"Don't be a stranger," he warned, "To either of them."

But Aegon knew that he would be, he was only Aegon Targaryen, broken, fatherless, asshole who left Arya Stark. How could he even begin to compete with the perfect man who was clearly the perfect father?

Arya had been working on her research project with the veterans for over a year now and to say she'd formed personal relationships with her subjects was an understatement. These were people who understood her, who got what her sacrifice had meant, who held no judgments; some of them were trying to escape too. Sometimes the world gets to be too much and so they need to remove themselves from it and the quiet serenity of the desert, where the worries of your day-to-day life back home are slim to none. Being in the military, in Jordan had been incredibly freeing for her. She had the ability to think about nothing but saving the solider who was on her table, no jobs woes, or bills to think of, or even a dead son. It was her, her skills as a doctor, and the AmWillasan hero that depended on her. She thought of her time in Jordan, where time stood still and she felt truly needed.

"Keps, you sure have got it today," Syrio beamed. Syrio Riggs became Arya Stark's best friend in Jordan within a few days of knowing each other. He had also experienced loss, with his fiancé Megan statused as missing in combat. Originally from New Zealand, Syrio studied medicine at Harvard and decided to enlist after 9/11, feeling a sense of patriotism for a nation that wasn't even his own. His parents were less than pleased with his decision to join the U.S. army, but they couldn't deny that their son had chosen an honorable path, one that would lead him to self-discovery and great honor. It was with a heavy heart that they sent him off to the Middle East the first time; now as his fifth tour it felt too routine. His mother, Mary and father, Jim, hated to see him go, but each time he came back it was like the world stopped, that joy could never be encompassed in a few sentences_._

"What are you talking about, Syrio? I'm just going through the motions, like always."

"No you're not, you're on fire," he elated, again commenting his best friend. They had grown incredibly close since her first tour, which was only supposed to last three months, but she kept extending them for God knows what reason. He wasn't complaining, because Arya was someone he could talk to, who could understand what he was going through, and despite having differing views on certain topics always had a may of making you feel heard and seen. She was a good person, a genuine person, and Syrio hadn't come across many in his life.

"Thank you," she replied with an endearing smile on her face before walking past Syrio, bloody scrubs and all, nonchalantly. Arya had become known as 'the machine' amongst the other army doctors due to her cold nature when it came to addressing cases. She never backed down from a challenge and therefore never said no to an injured solider who had the misfortune of coming to her table.

"Evans," Syrio acknowledged, hands in his pockets awkwardly playing with the coins that were in there, "He's a real fighter."

"I know it shouldn't make a difference," she admitted, "But the fact that he's got kids made me work just a bit harder. Now he'll go home to them."

The look on her face was one of pure melancholy, here's a woman who's lost the only thing that matters to her, her son, and she's in the middle of a war-zone to cope. She hadn't talked much about her husband; she flew back to Seattle a few weeks ago, due to an attack on their camp. She had the ability to stay home, but she chose to come back, which bewildered Syrio. Why did she need to come back? Was her healing not finished?

"You're a damn good doctor, Keps," he admired, "You do what most of us wouldn't have the guts to do."

"I guess, I just know what it's like to lose," she looked solemnly at the ground, not liking be vulnerable, Arya Stark glanced up at her friend and said, "But it doesn't stop me from playing the game."

"Are you ever going to talk about it? About him?" Syrio pressed.

"What's there to talk about? He told me that he'd divorce me, that he's done with our marriage if I went on another tour."

"Arya," Syrio said again, with a slight scold in his tone, "It's not that simple."

"Isn't it?"

"No, it's not. Take it from someone who has lost the love of their life, it's worth the fight. It's worth swallowing your pride. It's worth admitting you were wrong."

"I wasn't wrong," she argued, "I still need to fix myself. Samuel is dead, the son I carried inside of me is dead and I need to accept that. I can say it without any problems, but as soon as I start thinking. Start wondering about the life he could have had, I can't move, everything around me becomes stagnant, and I am a shell of a person watching the world go on around them without any power to control it. I still feel that way when I think about him, so that's why I'm here."

Before Syrio could reply, there was a massive explosion that sent him and Arya flinging towards the tented walls of the medical camp. He collected himself, not more than a minute later, acknowledging that an IED had probably gone off near camp and they had felt the aftershocks. He assessed himself for damages and he was clear, he stood up right, looked at his body and saw no signs of stress. He was fine. However, the same couldn't be said for Arya. While they were talking, they were a ways away from one another, she was still cleaning up her workstation and he was standing in the doorway. Now, she lay unconscious at his feet. Her head had hit her operating table with full force and the once bubbly, trauma surgeon was quiet, with dust covering her entire body and her mouth only open slightly to reveal the bottom of her straight, white teeth.

"Arya," Syrio screamed, "Can you hear me?" His eyes widened in shock, as he looked at her once more, now his eyes were truly seeing what was there.

"Arya," his voice was suddenly calmer as he made his way towards her body, hoping that she'd be alive. Praying to God, Allah, and Buddha, anyone who had some pull in the afterlife that she'd be alive. She's been through so much; this isn't where her story ends. Not now. It isn't right.

He reached her unconscious body within seconds, he pressed his ear to her chest to listen for breathing, he felt it, and he knew she was alive. He almost did the sign of the cross there to acknowledge his glee at her survival, but he didn't. He was focused. As a solider he was trained to deal with situations like this, to prepare for the worst scenario, despite it being his best friend.

"Arya," he said, "I've got you. You're going to be okay," he stated as he picked her petite body up in his arms, she felt entirely weightless.

"Riggs?" Thompson yelled. Joseph Thompson was a multi-year veteran to trauma surgery in combat and he was one of Arya and Syrio's closest friends. With a daughter and a wife at home, the two of them yearned for his stories about fatherhood and being a husband, Joe had the ability to spread normalcy around the camp.

"Arya," he called back, out of breath due to the exhaustion, "She's," he couldn't get the words out, as important as he knew they were. He couldn't will his mind to say it. She was fine. She was Arya Stark, 'the machine', and 'the machine' could endure anything.

"Syrio," Joe placed his hand on Syrio's shoulder, trying to alleviate the stress that the younger man felt while holding his unconscious friend in his arms, "I've got her. Don't worry, I've got her."

And so, Syrio let her go, her weightless body slid from his arms like silk and he watched as his friend Joe and his colleagues tended to Arya. Within seconds, she was hooked up to a monitor and she was stripped of her army uniform. Syrio knew she would've hated to be naked in front of so many people, but he was unable to do anything about it. He just cowered in the corner, sinking to the floor with tears staining his face because he was convinced that his best friend was only living on borrowed time. He's been a soldier for so long, you'd think he'd be able to accept loss by now.

Joe worked on Arya for what seemed like hours, but even he had to admit defeat. He made her comfortable, at least that's what he had told Syrio. Arya was still unconscious. She had no other physical injuries and there was no explanation as to why she hadn't woken up, hours after the initial blast.

"She's going to be transferred to Munich," Joe told Syrio.

"What?" He asked, "She, she doesn't belong there."

"There's nothing more I can do here," Joe admitted, "She needs more than I can give her."

Syrio ran his hands through his hair, "She was fine."

"They all are," Syrio placed his hand on Syrio's back, "They all are."

Within a few hours Arya's unconscious body was loaded on a helicopter headed towards Munich, Germany from Jordan.

"What do we have?" Dr. Jung asked his colleagues.

"Female, thirty-two years old, suffered a severe head injury caused by a blast near her military camp, she hasn't woken up since," his intern Garrison answered.

"Good," he replied, "And what are we going to do, Hank?"

"Monitor her and see if her status improves. And run a CT."

"Very good."

So they watched Arya Stark for a few days, never forgetting to check on her every hour to see if she had improved. On the second day, she was still unconscious, but in the evening she had astounded her doctors and woke up. She could barely move or form words, but she moved her hand less than one inch to the left, and so her caretakers knew that Arya Stark, mother, soldier, survivor was still in there and clawing her way towards the top to get recognized again.

Arya had months of recovery to heal from her brain injury. Due to her type of injury, she had no problem with words, phrases, or remembering who she is. Her troubles were physical. She injured her femoral nerve, meaning she had some temporary paralysis in her right leg. It was still attached to her body, but she couldn't get it to move on its own. She worked for days in rehab, after she felt healthy enough to get around, trying desperately to relearn how to walk. Even just how to stand? Because if she couldn't stand, then how could she be a surgeon? Still she refused to tell her husband.

"Arya," Sandor tried. Syrio, who swallowed his pride and called the only person he knew would be able to help Arya, had called him a few days ago. Sandor had been a veteran, although not injured; Syrio thought Sandor was the best person to call. She and her husband were on shaky ground and he didn't want to make the decision as to when they should see each other again. And he knew her parents would be more trouble than help because they worry too much about their little girl. He received the phone call in the middle of a surgery. At first he told one of the scrub nurses to ignore it, he was elbow deep in a man's abdomen. But the phone rang again and again and again.

_He groaned, "Jane, just answer it. Clearly they need to speak to me."_

"_Okay," she obliged, putting the phone on speaker._

"_Sandor," a familiar voice came through the other line. Sandor's heart stopped in his chest and his hands ceased to move, he looked like he had just seen a ghost, "I know I'm the last person you'd ever want to hear from. But there was an attack on our camp, and," Syrio hesitated._

"_Take it off speaker," Sandor demanded._

_The scrub nurse held the phone to his ear, "Arya's been hurt. She's being airlifted to Munich right now. I can't be with her; I have to stay with the injured here. Will you go to her?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Dr. Clegane? What was that?"_

"_Dr. Hanson, can you finish?" He asked his third year resident._

"_Yes, sir."_

"_Good." And within seconds he was out of the O.R. and on the phone with the army to make arrangements for him to get to Germany. He arrived forty-eight hours later._

"Sandor, just stop. I'm not going home," she argued, "I don't want to."

"Aegon misses you," he stated.

"And I'm supposed to what? Care? He isn't here, he chose to not be a part of my life and I can't fault him for it. It's been a week since the accident; I need to focus on my rehab not my failed marriage."

"Arya," he urged again.

"Sandor, I'm alive. I know who I am. The world isn't burning around me. I'm okay."

Sandor didn't feel like arguing with her, "That you are," he replied, "Now you get better so you can come back to Seattle."

"Haven't you read my chart, I'll be ready by the end of the week," she joked. But truly it would take another three months for her to fully recovery from her injury, where both her colleagues and doctors believed she could go home, to her husband and to a life of pure uncertainty. However, Arya wasn't ready to go back there. If she were being honest, she wanted to get through her rehab and then take the next flight back to Jordan. That was where she belonged.

He looked at her solemnly; here was his former student who he had failed because of his own selfishness. Now he was divorced from Cristina and Arya is lying in a hospital bed in Germany, away from her friends and family, only accepting his aid. Was she ashamed? Was she embarrassed?

"Stark," he said, "What are you?"

"I'm a solider."

"That you are," he grinned, "Now, soldier, let's get you better so you can go home," he repeated.

"I wouldn't want anything more." She smiled, still dreading the idea of seeing Aegon again. She made sure he wouldn't know about this, why worry him? But to be honest, she was slightly afraid that if she told him or if he found out, there was the distinct possibility that he wouldn't care. If you never ask, you'll never feel the disappointment.

Northwestern Medical Center had given her an amazing research facility, much like the one in Munich. She'll never forget the doctors that had helped her through the most tasking physical challenge of her life. They changed her. They made her want to be a doctor for more than the glory or the pride from her family, or the more charitable reason of helping people. Now, she wanted to be a doctor for her country. To support the men and women who give up their lives to protect her freedom.

"I don't know why we have to talk to the patients," Dr. Liam Brown, groaned.

"Come on, it's fun," Mindy urged, "You've got to admit some of their stories are pretty interesting.

"No they're not. I'm a surgeon, not a grief counselor."

"To be a surgeon is to be a grief counselor, you're going to have to speak with their families if anything goes wrong, you're going to have to speak to your patient and assure them that you've got this. That they're going to be fine. And," she paused for effect, "If you so much as breathe disrespectfully in front of these soldiers I will personally have you removed from this program," Arya threatened, "Understood?" She stood firmly with her hands on her hips and gave a look that could kill, leaving the young surgeon shaking in his boots.

"Yes, Dr. Stark."

"Now get out you two," she ordered, "I need to meet with Mr. McKinley, since you two don't think it's worth your time."

The two residents quickly shuffled out of the lab with their tails between their legs. She scoffed, annoyingly at their complaints. She knew her outburst was a tad unwarranted, they were young and they didn't know better. But someone should have taught them the basic rules of respect, especially when it comes to these Veterans.

"Hi Evan," she smiled pleasantly, as she entered his exam room. They were in the first part of their study, so now they were evaluating if each person was a good fit. It stung to reject people, but a little voice inside of her reminded her that if they could get the proper funding then these treatments could be used for other Veterans. Start with a few and the many will follow.

"Dr. Stark, it's great to see you again."

"I've told you, I don't know how many times, that you can call me Arya."

"And I've told you that I never disrespect a lady," he mocked the tipping of the hat gesture with a cheeky grin on his face, "So, I'm going to call you Dr. Stark."

She rolled her eyes jokingly, "Well-then, let's get down to business. How is your family? Have they adjusted well to you being home?"

Evan McKinley joined the Army right after college, he had felt that he wasn't ready for a career and that serving his country would be a good distractor from his fear of his impending future. So, he married his college girlfriend, and enlisted. He was deployed three times in the ten years after that. The army just made sense to him; he had comrades, a purpose, and honor. He had never thought it would betray him. That was until an IED hit and blasted his leg clean off. He had passed out from the sheer extremeness of the event and woke up in an army hospital with his left leg missing. His buddies told him that he woke up, still groggy, looked under the sheets and just shrugged at his missing leg, saying, "Well, I guess I lost the bet." He was sent home a few weeks later and he's been there for a year. Rehabbing his leg, working with the prosthetic, and trying to adjust himself to a life as an amputee.

"Everything's fine. You know, I don't feel like a cripple." Arya made a face at that word, to her it was impolite, and "Hey don't make that face I'm the one who's a cripple, so I can make fun of myself," he said putting a hand on his prosthetic, "I'm one of the lucky ones. I can still walk, I can still lift my kids up and pretend that they're airplanes over me shoulders. I can kiss my wife and I still know who she is. There are men," he looked down at the ground trying to compose himself, "Some of my brothers didn't make it out alive. And some that did are shells of their former selves. So, I'm okay with missing my leg."

"PTSD," she abruptly stated, "Any signs of PTSD?"

"None that I can think of. Unless you'd think guilt would be one? Then have me committed," he laughed.

"Evan, why are you doing this study then?"

"Because I figured I could be a control, you could evaluate me and my progress and compare it to the fellows who aren't so lucky."

"You've practiced that, haven't you?"

"Every night for a week."

"Well, I think you'll be an excellent addition to the study."

After a long day of meeting with different patients and hearing their stories about how they received their injuries and why they wanted to participate in the study, Arya felt completely drained. All she wanted to do was go and she her daughter, smell the top of her head, and for thirty seconds think about nothing other than the crisp, clean scent of her daughter's tightly-wound curls.

"Long day?" Gendry asked, almost immediately as she entered the house. Her fiancé already had dinner on the table, chicken breast with green beans and rolls. He never ceased to amaze her.

She went over to kiss him, with Rhaenys still in her arms, "You know me so well."

"Or Sansa texted me that you hadn't left the lab all day, not even for lunch."

"Damn, and here I thought you were just this amazing person who has this telepathic superpower to know exactly how I'm feeling. I think I need to go to our room to sort through this disappointment.

"Well, I'll call my mom and tell her the wedding's off. It'll be a bear to get that deposit back, but Gendry Waters can work some magic."

Arya just laughed at him and went to place Rhaenys in her height chair while Gendry called for Tom to come down from his room.

"Arya," the little boy exclaimed, practically pummeling her when ran to hug her.

She stroked the top of the little boy's head while he held onto her leg, "Hi Tom," she beamed. She never got sick or annoyed with his joy. He loved her and she loved him. The four of them sat down at the kitchen table and they were a true family. Maybe not by blood, but in all the true ways that count. They loved each other. They respected one another. And they'd do anything for one another. She truly hasn't felt this secure in herself and her relationships in a long time.

"Let's pray," Gendry interrupted her train of thought. And so, the four of them linked hands, Rhaenys tried her best but at only three her grip was pretty weak.

"Thank you God for the food on this table, for bringing Rhaenys and Arya into my life, for the strength and tenacity of the soldiers Arya treats, for Tom's smile, and of course for making us a family.

"Amen," they all chimed.

"So, Tom, what was the up of your day and what was the down?" Arya and Gendry had started a tradition, where at dinner they'd each share the best part of their day and the worst. It was a way to keep things positive, but also to allow them all to vent. However, venting could only be done at the dinner table and one complaint per person.

"My team won the game of kickball at recess," he beamed, stuffing his face with some green beans.

"And the low?" Gendry inquired.

"I had a spelling test today."

"How'd that go?" Arya asked.

"I got an A."

"So why's that the worst part of your day?" Gendry wondered.

"Yeah, getting an A means you did really well."

"I hate spelling."

Arya and Gendry just roared in laughter. Tom never knew why his parents would laugh at him, but he just played along and laughed to.

After cleaning up the kitchen and getting the kids ready for bed, Arya and Gendry sat on the couch in the living room together. She had poured each of them a small class of pinot noir and turned on the nightly news. She sat with her head perched in his lap, while he stroked her hair slowly.

"You really had a rough day, didn't you?"

"It just, it brought back so many memories; from before, from my injury. I know that's why I'm doing this, but it doesn't make it any easier."

"You're being brave."

"I wasn't brave for going. I was running away." She had never admitted that to anyone, her pride wouldn't allow her. Maybe if she had admitted that to Aegon all those years ago, they would have been okay. But the carousel never stops turning, she's made her bed and now she has to lye in it.

"Your reasons may have been selfish, but that doesn't counter act what you did there. Do you know how many people are alive because of you?"

"No."

"I'd bet hundreds."

She didn't respond, but Gendry continued, "You're the most compassionate person I know, it's one of the reasons I fell in love with you. It's why I'm so excited to marry you in a month."

"I still can't believe we're getting married in a month."

"I can," he laughed, "I knew from the moment I met you that I was going to marry you."

"Really?"

"Really," he looked down at her with assurance.

"I'm glad that you asked me," she smiled, "You're everything I never knew I needed."

They sat in silence for a little while longer, watching the news, until Gendry broke the silence, "Arya," he began. She peered up at him, fairly certain at what he was going to say.

"I want you to adopt Tom and I want to adopt Rhaenys. I know we haven't talked about it. But in case anything happens, I want you to have him. And I'd want to have Rhaenys or at least make some type of arrangement with Aegon if something were to happen," he trailed off.

She delicately grabbed his hand and smiled, "Yes, Gendry. Absolutely yes."

The day had come, Arya Stark was getting married; she couldn't help but smile boldly as she jumped out of bed at 6:00. She was always an early riser, thanks to her childhood growing up on a farm, but today there was definitely an extra spring in her step. This would be the third morning she woke up to a wedding. Her first was Matthew. She had loved him in her own way, but definitely not as much as he loved her. Looking back, it was cruel to stay with him, to lead him to a wedding. But she didn't want to be alone. She had been afraid that if she didn't marry Matthew, well she wouldn't marry anyone. She was content with a life of 'okay' love if it meant being alone. And then Aegon stood up and said those words, "_I love everything about you, even the things I don't like. And I think, I think you love me too._" She had never felt more sure of anything in her life than when she ran out of that barn with his hand intertwined in hers. The two of them drove to Lake Tahoe and they actually got married, but that ended in tragedy.

Now, she's older, wiser, and more in love than she's ever been in her life. She has a man who is everything Matthew wasn't, strong, passionate, and incredible in bed. While Aegon was rash and sometimes judgmental, Gendry was sweet and sensitive. She never felt judged by him. She never questioned her beauty, her faith or her beliefs, or how she preformed sexually. Aegon, he had a way of making her question herself. She loved him and he wasn't a bad person, but somehow he had a way of making her feel like she should change herself. Gendry loved her for her, cukooness and all.

Although it's been a while since she and Aegon had seen each other, almost a year and a half, she still invited him to her wedding. Not to rub it in his face, nothing like that. She loved him, he was the father of her child, and he used to be her best friend. She wanted him there. But he never sent in his R.S.V.P., so she took that as a no. He's probably moved on with his life, he's probably dating someone new. She has this amazing life with an amazing man and two wonderful children; he doesn't need to be here today.

"Arya, hon?" Her mother Karen knocked quietly on the door of her hotel room, "You up?"

"Yeah," she replied.

Her mom came in with a cup of steaming hot coffee with one thing of creamer and two packets of Splenda, just how Arya likes it, "You ready to get married today?"

"Absolutely. How's Rhaenys?"

"Sleeping like a rock. You didn't send me that picture of the flower girl dress you got her," Arya rolled her eyes, preparing her self for her mother's chastising, "It's absolutely adorable."

"Thank you."

"And that Tom," she beamed, "He's going to look like such a stud in that suit."

"Mom, you shouldn't say that about a six year old."

"Your sisters have daughters and they wouldn't be related."

Arya practically choked on her coffee, "Mom," she gasped, "Do not pimp out my son."

"Your son?"

Arya hadn't told her mother that she and Gendry had officially filed papers to adopt one another's children. It had been a very long and awkward phone call with Aegon, but he had conceded. Gendry adopting Rhaenys took away none of Aegon's parental rights and if something happened to Arya, Aegon would still get Rhaenys but agreed to move to Chicago so she wouldn't have to transition to a new city without Gendry and Tom. It was a good compromise. They also stipulated in the paperwork that if both of them died, Aegon would get both children. He wasn't thrilled with the idea, but Arya convinced him. "_She's yours," she told him, "And he's mine too. I trust you; you'd do well by them if you needed to. You're a good man in a storm, Aegon."_

"I adopted him last week, it's official. Tom is mine." She couldn't help but cheekily smile at the thought.

She expected her mom to complain, to chastise her for adopting Tom. Tom isn't her problem, he's not her son by blood, and so she shouldn't need to take care of him. But there was something about that little boy; Arya didn't know if she had fallen more in love with Gendry or the endearing smile his son wore every time he and Arya did something together. That boy was hers in every way that counted and she was willing to kick her mother out of her wedding if she dared to argue, "That's great, Apple," she smiled, "That's really great," she held back tears.

Arya immediately stood up, much to her older sister's disapproval who was doing her hair at the time, "Hey," Libby yelled, but Arya ignored her.

"Mom," she soothed," holding her mom close to her and stroking her hair with her hands. Of all the people who should be upset right now, it should be Arya, this is her wedding day. Well it wouldn't be Arya Stark's wedding day if she weren't consoling someone else.

"It's nothing, really," she lied, wiping the tears form her eyes quickly.

"Mom," Arya looked at her sternly.

"Samuel," she breathed quietly, "I can't help but think of him."

"Tom isn't replacing him, not even close. I have more than enough room in my heart for both of them."

"I know," her mom replied, "I always knew that you'd grow up to be an exceptional woman. But you have more than exceeded my expectations."

"Mom, you're going to make me cry."

Her mom looked at her intently, "No, no, you don't do that. We don't need you ruining your makeup."

Arya half laughed and cried, "Alice would kill me, wouldn't she?"

"Probably."

Arya and Gendry had decided to get married outside at Art Institute of Chicago South Garden. It was absolutely breath taking, especially in June. Arya wanted to be outside, so she could have butterflies surrounding her and the flowers didn't hurt either. Her and Gendry wanted to keep the ceremony small, so only their closest friends and family were in attendance. Arya had her sister's on her side as her bridesmaids, the three of them had gotten much closer since her wedding to Matthew and Gendry had his brothers and Willas next to him.

She wore an ivory colored cocktail dress; she felt that a traditional wedding dress would have been too much. It hit just below her knees and she held a small bouquet of pale pink roses in front of her. She followed Rhaenys down the aisle, with her father on her arm and the only thing she could focus on was Gendry's smiling face. He had on a black suit, that was fitted to perfection and if she focused hard enough she could see the tears in his eyes. She couldn't help but smile wide and almost chuckle at him, he responded by playfully waving his index and middle finger.

"We are gathered here today to witness Arya Noel Stark and Gendry Syrioiel Waters embark on the journey of marriage." The ceremony continued without any hiccups or former best friends standing up and giving objections, "Arya and Gendry have prepared their own vows."

They stood to look at one another, "Arya," he began, "I was in love once. She was the mother of my son and when I lost her I accepted that my life would always be a little bit empty. But then you walked into my life. With your charming smile and positive attitude. You've endured more than most people and you do it without complaint. You've brought a light to mine and Tom's life, one that we didn't know was missing, but would surely never survive without. You are a love I never allowed myself to want, but you are everything I needed. I love you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I will do everything in my power to cherish you as your husband. From this day, until my last day."

He slide the ring on her finger as she tried to hold back tears, "Gendry, you have taken me and my daughter in and treated us like your own since the first day I met you. You're the strongest, most charismatic man I have ever met. Your love never waivers and your joy doesn't either. Life can be scary at times, but I know I have nothing to fear knowing that I'll have you by my side. My partner. My best friend. My husband. From this day, until my last day."

"You may now kiss the bride."

Gendry grabbed Arya's cheek and kissed her softly; it wasn't like their other kisses. It was full of passion, security, and rightness. He was finally kissing his wife and she was finally kissing her husband, she'd never been happier. Her entire family and friends from the hospital were smiling an clapping as the happy couple walked down the aisle with their children in hand, ready to start their lives as a married couple, finally.

The E.R. was slow that morning, too slow. Arya knew it should have been a sign, but she ignored it, wishing for a bit of action so she could do more than twiddle her thumbs and read the news on her phone.

"Incoming," a nurse shouted, "There was just a hotel fire a few blocks from here, they'll be coming in a couple of minutes."

"Everyone, get trauma gowns on stat," Arya yelled, immediately going into Chief of Trauma mode.

"You said you wanted an intense morning," Willas joked.

"Not like this," she bit back, trying to hide her nervousness over Gendry. He worked this morning, taking his friend Nate's shift because he wanted to stay home with his sick daughter. Arya's heart was beating quickly, she kept reminding herself that he probably was nowhere near the fire, he was probably fine. She needn't worry for nothing.

She had taken care of a few patients, luckily there were no casualties yet, and then the ambulance came with a young man in his mid-thirties. He was burned over sixty percent of his body, his limbs looked like they dind't belong on his body and his face was unrecognizable, covered in soot and grime. His hair had been burned to a crisp, but some still remained on his head. He was out, which she was glad for, the pain would've been too intense if he were awake.

"I got him, trauma one," she instructed her residents.

"We've got you," she said to him, trying to reassure the young man, who looked like a firefighter, "You saved all those people, now it's my turn to save you."

She worked on the man tirelessly for an hour, but it was no use. He status hadn't changed. She was about to give up when she looked at his hand and saw it, his wedding ring. Gendry's wedding ring.

"Dr. Stark, do you want me to call it?" A nurse asked.

Arya's mouth was open wide, but no sound came out. Willas came into the room, to check on her, asking if he needed her for other patients just in time to catch her as she fell to the ground. Her knees gave out, buckling like water, and then her cries came.

"Gendry," she wailed.

Who is the person that when you get the phone call telling you that they're gone, your knees will drop to the floor, your hands will cover your mouth in fear and anger and hurt, your body will crouch down and cradle itself because the last person who would hug you in this moment is gone, and as you drop the phone and it smashes on the ground and your tears become screams and your quiet sobbing with one tear flowing down your cheek becomes uncontrollable sobs where your whole body is shaking. It's not a panic attack. It's not anything you've ever felt before, it's death. Who is this person that when they die, you die? A part of your soul is taken with them as their body goes from a living, breathing person with thoughts and dreams, to nothing. She'd played the scene over and over in her head as a terrible nightmare, but she never thought she'd have to witness his death.

"Arya, Arya," Willas tried to soothe as he held her in his arms. But she didn't hear him, she just kept crying as she watched her husband breathe his last breath while the confused hospital staff stood there motionless as the watched Arya lose her husband and her happiness in one breath.


	14. Chapter 14

Willas held her limp body for what felt like hours, her legs felt like wet, limp noodles that could no longer hold her weight, and all she could feel was his arms around her chest holding her, tightly. They were strong arms; she could understand why Sansa commented on them so much; his arms reminded her of Gendry's. And how Gendry would sweep her up off the ground like she weighed nothing at all and twirl her around for the heck of it. Strong arms that held her, that kept her safe and warm and loved, but his arms are now charred flesh. The thought makes her shudder. The once smooth, pale skin of Gendry's arms was black and so damaged she had cringed slightly when she touched them. The last time she touched her husband' arms they were rough and damaged, that wasn't the image she wanted to remember him by. Now her memory of him is stained, he'll always be a broken body on a gurney in her E.R. desperately clinging to life. Arya let out a soft cry, but Willas didn't hear her. She had sunk into oblivion at this point. She had already lost so much. A son. A marriage. Her sanity. She couldn't lose her husband to. But as the light started to reconvene, she took short, shallow breaths.

"Arya," Willas softly whispered, "Arya," he repeated. But she didn't respond. She only looked forward, a haze over her eyes. She could see the nurses frozen in place, staring at her. Looking at her with feigned pity in their eyes or judgment over her ridiculous display of grief, whether they cared or not she didn't know. Let them be entertained by her disheveled appearance, for what did it matter? Nothing matters now. But then she heard the beeping. _Beep. Beep. Beep. _It sounded like gunshots or nails on a chalkboard or something else entirely, but it was deafening to her ears. To hear the sound of her husband's life go out, to know that he was no longer there was earth shattering to her; it felt like everything around her had stopped and God was simply pointing at her and laughing.

So, she laid on the floor, with Willas's arms still around her, as he was too afraid to let her go. The cool tile felt oddly comforting to her. The floor would never leave her. It would not magically open and swallow her whole, it wouldn't waiver, and it would never leave. Everyone has left her. So, she stayed there, breathing quick, short breaths. Hoping that if she closed her eyes and opened them again that this would all be a dream. Her husband would still be at home deciding which color polo to wear to dinner tonight and she would tell him white since it brings out his eyes. He would kiss her ravenously and they'd make love after the kids went to bed. In an hour, she'd go home and he'd be there. All she had to do was close her eyes and wake up and then this nightmare would be over. Then she'd see him again. Healthy. Safe. Alive.

Before she could do that though, Willas ripped her from the ground, practically forcing her to her feet.

"You don't need to be in here for this," he said guiding her out of the room. His best friend had just died and he was feeling his loss like no other, but he didn't need Arya to wallow in self-pity as she clung to the floor. She didn't need to see her husband be taken to the morgue.

Sansa watched the scene with horror struck in her eyes. Arya was lifeless. All the hope and joy that could be seen in her hazel eyes was null and void. '_What had happened?'_ she thought, _'Arya cares about her patients, but never this much.' _Willas made eye contact with her, sternly looking at her; she saw the tears welling in her husband's grey-blue eyes. He shook his head slightly, acknowledging Sansa's worsts fears. Willas held Arya by the shoulders, guiding her to a chair in the waiting room, while Sansa came over to them, not wanting to know why Arya looked like a ghost and why her husband looked as though the life had been ripped from them. If she didn't ask, then she'd never know, and she'd never have to feel the pain of losing someone else.

"Sansa," Willas breathed slowly as his eyes met his wife's, clearly looking for some comfort.

"No," she warned, "Not yet. I don't want to know."

"Sansa."

"Sixty seconds. Let me still think things are the same for a minute. That's all."

And so three of them waited in silence, as Willas held Arya tightly, Sansa looked at the clock watching the seconds tick by in dreadful anticipation of what Willas was going to say next, and Arya looked down at her wedding ring, twisting it around her finger.

A minute was up, "Gendry's dead," Willas said somberly.

"I know," Sansa replied grabbing his hand and looking at Arya with pity in her eyes. But Arya didn't see it; she just kept looking at her ring, thinking about the man who put it on her finger. The one, who only a few short months ago pledged himself to her until death do them part. Now she was a widow. Of all the cruel jokes God had ever played on her, this was bound to be the cruelest.

Willas and Sansa walked Arya to an on-call room, where they proceeded to lay her in bed. Sansa sat at her head and stroked her hair, softly. Cooing like a mother to her sick child. The husband and wife looked at each other with tears in their eyes, as they watched their best friend crumble into a million pieces before their eyes. They'd done this before, played doctor to a wounded soul, but that was for Gendry when Hannah died. They never imagined that they'd be consoling Gendry's wife after his death only four years later.

"_Where is she?" Gendry yelled, panic searing through his voice._

"_Gendry," Willas looked at him solemnly and without even having to say a word; Gendry knew. He looked at Sansa whose face was red and her cheeks were stained with tears. She couldn't look him in the eye._

"_What happened?" His voice had suddenly become calm._

"_There was an accident," Willas explained, "She didn't make it."_

"_Did she suffer?" He asked; his voice was barely above a whisper._

"_No," Sansa looked up at him, "She was dead before she got here. Massive cranial trauma, I called it."_

_Gendry didn't respond, he just sunk to the ground, holding his knees to his chest fighting the tears that would inevitably come. He's too young to bury his wife. His son is too young to live without his mother. Life isn't supposed to be this hard, not yet._

"_I'm sure you did all you could," he consoled Sansa as he grabbed her hand and allowed her to cry into his chest. He wasn't going to blame her for this; he knew she'd be doing enough of that herself._

"This morning he and I were talking about what to get Harriet for her birthday," Arya laughed, "She's gonna be five next week. How am I supposed to tell her that he's dead? How am I going to tell Tom?" Harriet barely knew Gendry, she loved him, but she knew he wasn't her dad. That role was specifically reserved for Tomson Targaryen and boy did he know it. She'd called Gendry 'Daddy' in the past, but mostly he went by 'Daddy 2' or 'Step-In Dad' as a joke. But, telling Tom. The thought is ripping Arya a part.

"You don't have to do it alone," Sansa assured, "We're going to be right here. Now you rest. Life will be here when you wake up."

"I can't sleep. I know when I wake up he won't be there and I don't know if I can, will myself to close my eyes. I can't," she whispered.

"Try and dream about something good," Sansa instructed, trying to soothe Arya's jagged breathing by stroking her back with small movements, "I've got you."

Arya was about to protest but her body took over, exhaustion conquered her, and she reluctantly closed her hazel eyes. Inviting in the darkness that a life without Gendry was going to be.

"Sansa," Willas grabbed his wife, who had just closed the door to Arya's on call room after she was sure Arya was sound asleep. Her heart was breaking for her friend who looked like a broken rag doll with her mascara smudged onto her cheeks and her auburn hair in clumps around her face.

She ignored him, instead instructing a nurse, "I need you to make sure that no one goes in that room, except me, or Dr. Hamilton or her wife. And page me as soon as Dr. Stark is awake. Page the Chief that she is off for the rest of the day, am I clear?"

The scared nurse looked at her confused, while Willas held his head down, "Yes, Dr. Andrews."

She started to walk down the hall, practically running from her husband, "Sansa slow down," he begged, but she ignored him. She made her way to the roof where he of course followed her. She would never admit it, but when she gets upset she runs. She doesn't like to face problems head on, because that's simply too difficult. So she runs and normally people don't chase after her. They think it's easier to let her handle things on her own, let her take a few breaths to collect herself and maybe they'll decide to deal with her when she's more rational, but Willas was never like that. He always followed her. He knew that's how she liked it. She wanted to seethe and scream and fight, but once that was out of her system, once she comprehended the pain, she would need someone to hold her, someone whose arms she could collapse into.

They were on the roof when he heard her start to scream. She yelled, blood-curdling screams at the top of her lungs. The whole of Chicago could probably hear her, but she didn't care. And after what seemed like hours, the screaming sufficed and he walked over to his wife.

"It's not fair," she collapsed into his chest, "It's not fair."

"I know," he soothed.

"He was," she couldn't find the words, "He was so good. He didn't deserve this. This doesn't make any sense."

"Life doesn't, most days," he admitted. He didn't have any words of wisdom for his wife; he himself was still at a loss over what had happened.

"I'm an adult and I can barley comprehend what's happening, what about Tom? How on earth is that little boy going to take this?"

"It won't be easy, but he'll have Arya and us. We promised Gendry that we'd be there if anything happened. Sansa," Willas paused, "Gendry knew the risks he was taking with his job. He asked us to be there for his family, now we have to honor his wishes."

"I wish we didn't have to," she sobbed.

"Me either."

"Arya," Sansa knocked on the door softly, as to not wake her up. But Arya was awake, staring at her phone. Her background photo was a picture of her and Gendry, smiling at an apple orchard they had went to last week. The kids were so excited for the hay-ride, Arya could have sworn they grew up on a farm. She and Gendry had agreed that they'd go to Ohio to visit her parents for Christmas, after she spent a good twenty minutes arguing how much fun Tom would have at their farm.

"_We even chop our own tree down on Christmas Eve then everyone decorates it together, Stark family tradition," she cooed._

"_Well, I wouldn't miss it for the world," he laughed._

Now he would. They would have no more Christmases to spend together, having not even spent one as husband and wife. There would be no more holidays to spend or arguments over whose family to visit, even though neither of them would care either way. Maybe that's why it hurt so much, because there was still so much undone, unsaid, un-lived. They never got a chance to be a real married couple, one who argued over the little things but loved each other with a burning passion. They'll never get to be old where they'll complain about the loud music in a restaurant and how the font on the menu is too small. They'll never get to watch their kids grow up, graduate high school, go on a first date, become their own person. Gendry should be there to teach Tom how to tie a tie or to warn off Harriet's first boyfriend or to simply be their dad. But now that job is reserved for her and she's not sure if she can handle it.

"I'm still here," she joked, "Jo checked up on me a little bit ago, you don't need to worry."

"I know," Sansa felt akwward, "I'm here whatever you need, you know that."

"Thank you," Arya smiled.

"Do you want to go home?"

Arya hesitated her legs felt like cinder blocks, part of her didn't want to move, didn't want to even entertain the thought that she'd be leaving this hospital a widow, "It's not going to be any easier, is it?"

"No, it's not."

"So, let's rip the band-aid off," Arya stood up, brushed her hair a bit with her fingers and removed the mascara that was smudged under her lashline with a tissue. If she was going to go out there, she may as well look semi-presentable.

Everyone in the hospital ignored Arya, no one knew what to say to her, her husband had just died in the E.R. and she was his doctor. The nurses looked at her with solemn looks on their faces and the other doctors, with their remarkable social skills, gawked at her like she was a zoo animal. Sansa had her hands over Arya's shoulders as she guided her out of the hospital and into her car. Willas already had the girls and Tom at their house and ordered them pizza and soda, much to Sansa's dismay, but Willas insisted that they'd need it. Arya was still in shock; she'd been sleeping the entire day only waking up to go to the bathroom once or twice and to grab a quick bite to eat. Sansa and Cassandra periodically checked on her and they made sure the nurses near the on-call room did as well.

The drive home was silent; Arya stared out the window thinking about how her life had changed so much in a day. But that's how life happens, isn't it? The massive changes happen quickly. One day you're single and the next you're married. One day you're not a mother and the next you are. One day someone's in your life and the next they're gone.

"Arya," Sansa nudged her shoulder, "We're at my place. The kids are here too."

Arya reached for the door handle, but something inside of her couldn't will herself to open it. Once she walks through that door she's either going to break down and cry and be too incoherent to tell her children what happened to their father or she's going to have to plaster the fakest smile she can muster before she breaks the news to them.

"I'm a solider," she whispered to herself, grabbing the door handle with strength, "I will not back down." Her palms were sweaty and she could swear that her legs buckled a bit under her as she walked towards the front door, but she still made it. She didn't collapse from exhaustion or grief. God was with her when she got injured, when Samuel died, when she failed her boards, and he's with her now. He wouldn't give her anything she couldn't handle. She's a soldier. She will survive this. She doesn't have a choice.

"Arya," Tom yelled gleefully, running to hug her as soon as she stepped into Sansa and Willas's house, "Uncle Willas gave us pizza and Diet Coke and we've been watching _Finding Nemo_ for the last hour. I can't believe we're doing this on a school night," the little boy exclaimed.

"I know; it's a real treat isn't it?" She smiled at him, sadly.

"It's great. Plus, I don't have any math homework since I got the best score in the class on the last pop quiz. I want to show dad too, where is he?"

"Tom," Arya's voice quivered, "Let's go to the kitchen so we can talk."

The boy stood firmly in front of her, fists clenched in anger, but worry was written all over his face, "Where is he?"

"Tom, I have some cookies in the kitchen for you and Harriet, why don't you guys and your Arya meet me in here," Sansa chimed in, saving Arya.

Tom knew, of course he knew, he was a smart kid. But he was also incredibly intuitive and having been through this before, Arya feared hurting him the most. He's only eight; it's not fair that he's experienced all this loss. It just doesn't make any sense.

Sansa handed Tom a chocolate chip cookie as he took his seat at the kitchen table next to Harriet, who was doodling something in her notebook. The kindergartener, Arya thought, wouldn't be able to understand Gendry's death and if she were lucky enough, Harriet would forget Gendry entirely. Gendry loved Harriet, more than words could say, but the thought of Harriet not remembering him so as to not remember the loss of him was comforting to Arya. Yet, the thought of her daughter not knowing that she had two amazing fathers in her life, both who loved her unconditionally, well that was an even harder though to bear.

"Where's dad?" Tom pressed, again.

Arya grabbed for his hand with tears in her eyes, "You know how your dad's a hero right? How he goes into burning buildings and saves people."

"Yeah?"

"Well, there was a fire today at a hotel and your daddy had to go a help the people who were trapped in it. You know, because he's very brave. He put his life at risk to save people he didn't even know," she paused, "I need you to remember that."

"He's dead isn't he?" The boy concluded.

"Yes. Daddy is dead."

Harriet immediately started crying while Tom stared at her dumbfounded. Sansa and Willas looked at her with pity in their eyes and Willas rubbed Tom's back trying to offer some form of solace for the little boy.

"What happened?" Tom asked.

"Tom, we don't need to go into that," Willas warned.

"No, I want to know," he argued, "I'm a big boy. I've been through this before. I can handle it."

Arya admired his tenacity, it reminded her so much of Gendry. Tom was strong, but he was still only eight. His little heart didn't need to take all of this pain. He may think he can handle it, but she couldn't even handle the death of her son when she was in her thirties.

Arya took a few seconds to collect herself, "There were some children trapped on the fifth floor," Arya began recounting the meeting she had had with the Fire Chief.

"_Dr. Abbott," he began, "I'm so sorry for your loss." He had caught her on her way back from the cafeteria; apparently he had been trying all day to track her down. She whipped around quickly, looking at the older man who was still wearing his uniform and had soot covering his face. Clearly, he had been helping in the fire as well._

"_Thank you," she trailed._

"_Emerson Plank," he said._

"_Thank you, Emerson."_

"_Could we go somewhere and talk?"_

"_I don't have a choice do I?"_

"_I can come back later, if you need more time to process this."_

"_No," she sighed, it didn't matter if he came back in an hour or in six years it wouldn't change the fact that Gendry was dead._

_He led her to an empty conference room at the end of the hall._

"_Gendry was one of my first recruits," he began, "He wasn't anywhere near as strong as he was. He was a puny little boy, weighed no more than 160 pounds. But there was this spark in him. He wasn't the strongest or the tallest or the smartest, but he was the most determined. I never worried about him making it through the academy because he wanted it. Some men become firefighters because it's a decent job, nothing more. However, being a firefighter was Gendry's dream. And," Emerson tried to hold back tears, "He was like a son to me. And when he lost Hannah I didn't think he'd come back to the force the same, but he did. He was always a fighter, told me that's what he found the most endearing about you when you two first me. You should have heard the way he talked about you at the station, that man was head over heels in love with you. I thought you should know that," he hesitated, "It won't bring him back, I know, but maybe it'll make it hurt a little less."_

"_Thank you," Arya quietly responded._

"_Dr. Abbott," he hesitated, he'd done this only a few times before. Contrary to popular belief, it was quite rare for one of his recruits to die in a fire._

"_Arya, you can call me Arya," she instructed._

"_Okay, Arya, this is difficult."_

"_I'm a trauma surgeon, I know what you have to say. It's okay, take your time."_

_He was a bit bewildered at the widow comforting him, but he found his words, "This morning Gendry was called into the station to help combat a fire on 15th and North at the Jules hotel. We're not sure what started the fire, but by the time we got there it had already consumed the fourth and fifth floors. The hotel staff tried to get everyone evacuated as best they could, but they still needed us to do a final swoop. Gendry, Paige, and Brandon went in together to sweep the fifth floor. Paige and Brandon were on the west side of the building, while Gendry was on the east. He heard screaming coming from one of the rooms, he found a little girl and her younger brother clutching the bedpost crying while the fire brewed behind them. Gendry got them out of the room and had Paige and Brandon get them out of the building while he tried his best to combat the fire," Emerson paused, "He wasn't supposed to let the both of them go. We have a protocol, but he needed to ensure that the two of them were safe. What he did was heroic, Arya."_

"_I know," she replied, "I saw it."_

"_What do you mean, you saw it?"_

"_I'm a trauma surgeon, the Chief of Trauma actually, at the best Trauma center in the city that happened to be a few blocks from the fire."_

_He put two and two together, "Arya," he hands reached his mouth in horror, "please tell me you didn't," he couldn't even fathom the thought._

"_He was in pain," she began to cry, "He was awake and he was in pain. His skin was burned beyond recognition and his sandy blond hair was gone. He never opened his eyes; if he had I would've known right away. But every time we touched him, he seethed in pain, his heart rate would escalate and I knew it was only a matter of time he either died or his body would go into shock. I was praying that he would die," she admitted, "Isn't that horrible? I was praying to God to take his life so that his pain could end. I'm a brilliant surgeon and I've probably performed miracles before, but his body was completely unrecognizable, ruined by the fire," she coldly stated, "I know that makes me a terrible person."_

"_You're not." He squeezed her hand tenderly, reminding her of her father. What would he do right now? He'd probably hold her while she cried into his chest and he'd stroke her hair whispering that everything would be okay. Why do we always say that? Is it a lie we repeat over and over to ourselves to get us through one tragedy only to be thrown for a loop when the next one hits?_

"_He died thinking he was alone and I'm the only one who's to blame for that."_

"_You did everything you could."_

"_But it still wasn't enough," she snapped. Emerson looked at her with pity in his eyes, exactly how her father would look at her, she thought, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that, you've been nothing but kind to me," she started to ramble._

"_It's okay," he graciously said, "I understand, I lost my wife a few months back from cancer."_

"_I don't think I know how to live in a world where he doesn't," she confessed._

"_You know," Emerson, stated, "It'll hurt every time you think of him, but over time, it will hurt less and less. And eventually you'll remember him and," his voice waivered a bit, "It will only hurt a little."_

_The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes before Arya returned to the on call room to finish her chips and fall back asleep. She ignored everyone around her, feeling as if she was in a deafening tunnel. No one could understand her, she was entirely alone and the sheer thought was maddening. She knew Sansa was coming to take her home at 7:00, there she'd have to talk to Tom and Harriet, she'd have to tell her parents, her friends; in a few hours she would no longer be Arya Abbott, she'd be a widow._

"Your dad risked his life to save that little boy and girl and because he left his partners and he hadn't anticipated a second blast coming through, he was pinned down by a dresser that fell on his back. He couldn't move, he was trapped, and the fire was still going."

Willas and Sansa listened intently; they hadn't known the exact details of what happened. Sansa could hardly contain her tears as she looked on in horror as Arya calmly explained Gendry's death.

"He was burned over 70% of his body and when he got to the E.R. he was in a tremendous amount of pain."

"You work in the E.R., did you try to save him?" Tom asked.

"I did," she looked at Tom, "I did everything I could to try and save him. But his injuries were too extensive." She sounded like a doctor at that moment and not a mother.

"If you couldn't save him then I doubt anyone could have," he confidently stated. The young boy held his head up high for a few seconds before completely collapsing in tears as he grabbed Arya by the waist, "I know you tried," he sobbed, "Thank you."

She rubbed the top of his head, shushing him pleasantly, whispering to him that it was all going to be okay. For some reason, right then it didn't feel like a lie she was telling to a little boy, it felt like something that was true. They'll be able to survive this.

Arya hadn't told anyone about Gendry's death except her children, her parents, and Gendry's parents. Hearing Cassandra's sobs on the other line was heart wrenching for Arya, she had wanted to hang up the phone so badly. But she listened, in silence, to her mother in law wail; knowing exactly how it felt to lose a son. Arya said nothing because there were no words to explain the feeling to offer some sense of comfort that didn't feel forced or not genuine. Sansa and Willas had offered to call Gendry's siblings and Hannah's family, for which Arya was grateful. Telling her parents hadn't been any easier, they told her they'd be on the next plane out and would handle telling her sisters.

The next day her parents arrived in Chicago as well as Gendry's parents. Arya insisted they both stay at her house; she didn't need them in a hotel feeling as though that was rude given the circumstances. Plus, the house felt eerily quiet without Gendry in it, maybe it'd be better if her family was here.

"Arya, sweetheart," her mother cooed, as she answered the door to her and Gendry's house for her parents.

"We're so sorry," her dad added, "How are you holding up?"

"As best as I can," she admitted, "Come on in," she instructed, "You guys must be tired from the plane ride."

"Nonsense sweetheart," her mother argued, hanging up her coat on the rack while her dad brought in a huge suitcase, clearly her parents were planning on staying a while.

"I'll show you up to your room, it's the second door on the left," she started rambling, "I didn't have a chance to get new sheets so they don't really match the bedding. I hope you don't mind, but it's been super busy at the hospital with my research and being Chief of my department, I just haven't found the time to go to Bed Bath and Beyond to get new ones."

Her mother stopped her and looked her square in the eyes, while her father sighed, "Arya, sweetheart, stop. It's okay. The sheets don't matter, only you matter. What do you need us to do?"

"I need you to," she didn't know what she needed. The past few days all she could think of was death. Her husband was dead. She was sleeping in their room, smelling his shampoo on his pillow; the scent was so strong she could have been fooled to think that he'd just slept on it. Every conversation she had for the past two days was about Gendry. The funeral. What to do with his body? How to tell his family? She needed it to stop, "I need to go to work today."

"Arya," her mother began to argue, but her father stepped in to defend her.

"You need to get your mind off of things, don't you?"

"Yes," she admitted, biting her lip nervously.

"Go," he implored, "We'll take care of the kids and any details for the funeral that need to be covered."

"Thank you." She rushed in to hug her parents before running out the door and practically speeding like a jet-plane to the E.R.

"She's going to be okay, right?" Karen asked her husband.

"She's our Arya, of course she's going to be, now let's go see our beautiful granddaughter and grandson," he added, and to that Karen couldn't argue. They could deal with the funeral details in a bit, now more than ever they wanted to see their grandchildren and be surrounded by a bit of positivity.

Arya hadn't been to work in a couple of days, so they were quite surprised when she walked into the E.R. with her scrubs on and her hair braided back, looking as if she were ready to take on the day, which she was. She needed this now, more than ever, to get herself knee deep in a patient. Where her thoughts would only be about their survival for a few hours. Where nothing would matter but them, her hands, and the will of God to allow them to survive.

"Dr. Stark," Mindy Shashad greeted confused, "I didn't think I'd see you here."

"I'm still the Chief of the department, Dr. Shashad. I have a job to do."

"But," she argued.

"Yes, my husband is dead, but some other people's husbands aren't and I'm no good to them if I'm sitting at home sulking and crying over what could have been."

"Oh," she was taken aback, "We have a gun shot wound in trauma room 1."

"Lead the way," Arya instructed. And so Mindy complied and led her Trauma Attending to the very room her husband died in, but Arya didn't say a word. She didn't have time to think about her grief, not while there was a teenage boy lying on the bed with a gun-shot wound to the chest. She needed to focus, there was no time dwell on things she couldn't change.

"What do we have?" Arya asked, her voice was strong, causing the nurses and Dr. Hanson who was already treating the patient to turn around and stop what they were doing.

"Dr. Stark, we weren't expecting you," he said, "As you can see, I've got this."

Arya rolled her eyes at the third year resident, who did remind her a bit of Alex before he became a good person. This was pre-Africa Alex, the one who was an ass to any and everyone who got in his way and who thought his surgical skills were immeasurable, "Dr. Hamilton, is it?" She knew right then and there that the third year was seething with anger, "I'll be taking over this patient."

"Do you really thin that's best, given?"

"Out," she yelled, he quickly removed his hands from the patient and ripped the yellow trauma gown off his body with frustration, but before he could leave the room Arya had a few choice words, "If you ever question my competence as a surgeon again I will personally have you thrown out of this program."

"Yes, Doctor, he bit his tongue at the utterance of the words.

"Now, get out of my sight and find some sutures to stitch up. You're out of the O.R. for the next month."

He opened his mouth to argue, but a nurse had already pushed him out of the trauma room and Arya's focus was now on the patient.

"What do we have?" She asked again, breaking the tension.

"Parker Norris, seventeen, playing basketball at the park and some gang members thought he was apart of the rival gang, shot at point blank range in the chest. He's been going in an out of consciousness for the past fifteen minutes," a nurse explained.

"Okay," Arya replied. And so she worked. Her hands moved like waves over Parker's body, seeming to know what to do next before even her mind could make a decision. They stabilized him in the E.R. then brought him up to the O.R. The operation took a few hours and it was a bit more difficult than she'd originally anticipated it to be, but she'd been successful. Parker Norris was going to live to be old and gray and have fifty grandchildren if that's what his heart desired. She wiped the sweat from her brow as she excited the O.R. feeling both relief and exhaustion.

She made her way to the Chief's office, praying to God that he'd still be there. It was a bit past five and she knew Dr. Prescott hated staying any later than he had too. She knocked on the door, while opening it, catching him in the middle of packing up his briefcase.

"Dr. Stark," he said surprised, "What are you doing here?"

"I needed to clear my mind," she answered. He looked at her and nodded, "Can I sit down?"

He shook his head, "Of course, of course," he gestured for the chair in front of his desk, "What can I help you with?"

"I'm sorry, were you heading out, I know don't want to impose if you have somewhere to be."

"Nonsense, I have all the time in the world. What is it you need to talk about?"

"I worked in the E.R. today," she began, "And normally I love the E.R. It's where I've always felt the most free and the most useful and today I saved a young boy's life and you know what I felt?"

He looked at her emphatically, "No, Arya, I don't."

"Nothing. I felt nothing," she felt ashamed at her words, "I didn't care if that boy lived or died. And when he lived I should have been relieved, I should have sent up a prayer to God thanking Him for the strength and wisdom he bestowed on me to save his life. But all I could think about was my husband and how I failed to save him."

"What are you saying, Arya?"

"I'm saying," she hesitated, "I'm saying I can't stay here. I can't stay here and walk the halls where my husband died or treat patients in the very room, on the very bed where my husband took his last breath."

"If you need to go, I won't stop you," he said, "Whatever you decide Northwestern Medical Center will support you, and as your friend, I'll support whatever choice you make."

"Thank you."

"But you don't need to make any decisions now," he implored, "Take the night to sleep on it. Everything is still fresh and you never know, things may seem better in a few weeks."

"I envy your optimism," she laughed.

"Sometimes it's the only thing that gets me through the day," he sighed, "That and a single-malt scotch at the end of the night." This earned a laugh from Arya, who for just a moment forgot that she was a widow who'd go home in a few minutes to a house full of her relatives that were planning her husband's funeral.

The funeral is tomorrow; she's tried not to think about it. Her parents have been a Godsend, helping her with the details of everything, consoling her when she needs it, but giving her, her space too. The only person left to tell was Tomson, she didn't know why she felt the need to tell him; maybe it was because of Harriet or because right now she really wants her best friend. She needs him to tell her it's going to be all right, even if he's lying through his teeth, even if he hates her; she just wants him with her. His phone went to voicemail, so she called Rhaellae.

"Arya, dear, do you have any idea what time it is?" Rhaellae groaned.

Arya immediately felt embarrassed, "I'm sorry Rhaellae, I completely forgot about the time difference."

"It's okay dear," she said, "Why are you calling? Is everything okay with Harriet?"

"Yes, yes, everything's fine. Harriet's been enjoying school so much; she absolutely loves her teacher Mrs. Werdamen. She's really been excelling at making friends, which I'm sure we have Tomson to thank for. He bestowed his good looks and his charm on her, he's going to hate that when she gets older," she quickly replied.

Rhaellae could hear in her voice that it wasn't, "Arya, sweetheart, not that I don't love talking about my granddaughter at 4:30 in the morning, I have a feeling she's not the reason you called."

"No," Arya reluctantly replied, "She's not."

"Spit it out," Rhaellae was getting annoyed at this point, why couldn't the girl ever say what was on her mind.

"I tried to get a hold of Tomson this morning."

"And?"

"He didn't answer, so I called you."

"I've gathered that dear," Rhaellae snapped, she could really be a pain without her morning coffee.

"I wanted to talk to him because," she couldn't find the words, why was this so difficult to tell Rhaellae, "Because Gendry died and his funeral is tomorrow afternoon." There, she ripped the Band-Aid off.

"Arya," she could hear the shock in Rhaellae's voice, "What do you need me to do?"

"He and I haven't seen each other in so long and I know it's a lot to ask, and he'll probably say no and I get if he will. I mean, I'd say no to me too, after what happened between us."

"Arya, you're rambling again."

"Could you ask him to come? I'd really like it if he came. For both me and Harriet."

"I'll see what I can do," Rhaellae replied.

"Thank you."

"And Arya," Rhaellae said before hanging up, "I'm sorry for your loss. He was a wonderful man who adored you more than anything. I'm still slightly bitter that you and Tomson couldn't work out your differences, but if you had to be with any man besides my son I'm glad it was Gendry."

"Thank you, Rhaellae."

Although Tomson had received an invitation to Arya's wedding, he threw it out without even opening it; he had to hear from his mother that Arya Stark had become Arya Abbott. She chastised him for days for not growing the balls to tell Arya exactly how he felt. Rhaellae always loved Arya, her wit, her smile, and the way she never judged Tomson on his looks or his money. The woman was a class act and it was a pure shame that she and Tomson couldn't work out.

"Good morning, mom," he kissed her on the cheek.

"Morning," she coldly replied.

"Well, would you care to explain to me why you invited me to breakfast this morning and why my surgeries were cancelled?"

"You're going to Chicago."

He almost spat out his coffee, "What? Why? I haven't been there in months, there's no need for me to go back there," he argued.

"Gendry died." She said it so coldly that Tomson thought she was joking. Her face was completely blank, devoid of any emotion. Tomson knew Rhaellae was fond of Gendry, having met with him a few times for lunch or some other activity with Arya. Arya had told him in their weekly Skype sessions that Gendry was very impressed with his mother's work and was so thrilled she had agreed to meet him.

"Arya," the words hardly escaped his lips. He felt as though he was going to be sick. How on earth was Arya feeling? How was she dealing with this?

"Go to her," his mother instructed.

"I can't. She won't want to see me, not after I didn't go to the wedding."

"She won't care about that now, she just lost her husband. You were her best friend once, go and be with her. Besides, she asked for you. She called me this morning asking for you. And she was scared, I don't think I've ever heard someone with a more broken voice, even more than,"

"Mom," he protested, he didn't want to talk about Samuel right now.

"Tomson Targaryen, I did not raise a coward. You always groan when I call you 'my baby boy', but you're not doing anything right now to show me you aren't a baby. That woman is in more pain than she's probably ever been in, in her life. Because before," she hesitated, "When Samuel died she still had you to turn to. Did she? No, but you were always there to catch her. Now she has no one. Go and be there for her."

He took their family plane that afternoon, to Chicago, arriving just in time for the funeral. He had changed into his best suit during the trip over and implored his driver to speed to the cemetery, where he laid eyes on her, in person, for the first time in years. She was hauntingly beautiful. He'd never seen her this broken, it broke his heart in two to watch her like this. To see the woman who is normally so vibrant and full of life, look as if she wants the depths of Hell to open up and swallow her whole.

"I didn't think you'd come," she said and all of a sudden he was transported to back to being an intern when it was just he and Arya against the world. He felt a little flicker of hope that maybe they'd be that again. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it ever so slightly, letting her know that he'd never leave her again.

He had stayed after at Arya's house to help clean up after the funeral and to take Harriet to his hotel. It was odd seeing Arya surrounded by people who treated her like family, the couple Willas and Sansa never left her side and neither did an older woman who he only presumed was Gendry's mother. She had a life here, she had people who loved her and knew her; she didn't need him anymore.

"I think you have enough casseroles to feed the entire hospital for a year, even rivals Teddy's widow casseroles," he japed.

"You know you don't have to help us clean up," she stated, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear, "You're a guest."

"I don't mind." She gave him an inquisitive look, "Really," Tomson insisted.

"Fine. I'll wash if you dry," she ordered.

He couldn't help the smile that formed over he face, "Just like old times."

They stood in silence for a bit, both too focused on the dishes and neither wanted to talk about the elephant in the room. Arya's husband had died a few days ago. Tomson didn't know how to approach her when Samuel died, he had tried, but his efforts failed and she left him breaking his heart. He didn't want to make the same mistake again, but he also was confused as to why she wanted him here. He wasn't good enough to console her last time, why would he be good enough now?

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," she answered.

"Why did you want me to come?"

She didn't look up at him, her eyes were laser-focused on the dish in her hand, "You were my best friend," she confessed, "And I'm sorry that I, that we couldn't work things out. It was never my intention to go so long without seeing you, it's just that whenever you were in town I was busy with research or Gendry and I didn't have time for you. To be frank, I purposefully didn't have time for you. Being around you was hard, it still is," she confessed, by now she was looking at him, staring into his sea-green eyes that were starting to well with tears of sadness or anger, she did not know, "But, you were there when we lost Samuel, and whether you think it or not you helped me through it. I guess, I just thought maybe you could be there for me again." She felt like a selfish child as she confessed her feelings to Tomson. She didn't want it to seem like she was using him, but she couldn't help but feel that she was.

"I don't hate you," he finally spoke, "I hate what you did. But I could never hate you."

She stared at him stunned, "That's, uh, that's good."

"You know, I did actually like Gendry. He was a good guy, kept in touch regarding Harriet, even kept me up to date on you a bit. He had a strong head on his shoulders and I'm sorry that he isn't here for you anymore. All I've ever wanted is for you to be happy, even if it was with someone else."

"That's more than I deserve." Her voice was breaking.

"I'm not a saint and you're not a martyr, we both made mistakes and we've both had to live with the consequences. I'm here now, whatever you need. I can talk to Clegane and take off for a while, help you with things."

"You don't need to do that."

"I know, but I want to."

She smiled at him and they continued to do this dishes in a pleasant silence before she interrupted, "I think I want to go back to Seattle."

Tomson couldn't help the smile that crept over his face, "Why?" He asked, trying to hide the excitement in his tone.

"It's kind of ironic isn't it," she giggled, "I left Seattle because its memories were too hard for me to handle and now I want to leave Chicago for the same reasons. Plus Harriet's getting older and I know she'll start asking questions about you and why she doesn't get to see you. It'd be nice having her closer to you, for the both of you."

Her words sounded like music to his ears, she was finally coming back, "I'd like that very much, but don't do anything solely on my account. I've been doing fine without you two living with me in Seattle, I'll be okay if you need to stay here."

She knew he was trying to hide his pain; it was quite evident that he hadn't been fine without her and Harriet. Alex had told her that Tomson walked around like a part of him was missing, he was short with interns, hardly ever did research, and invested more time and money into his sneaker collection then taking women out on dates.

"Maybe it's time I start making decisions for other people rather than myself." Someone called her from the living room and she left him with a pile of dishes to put away and a ringing in his heart that maybe things were starting to look up.

It's been one month since Gendry died and Arya has officially resigned from the Northwestern Medical Center, much to Dr. Prescott's dismay. He had been certain that Arya would be able to sort through her grief and return to work, but she knew that that'd be impossible. He reluctantly accepted her letter of resignation, insisting that she'd always have a place at Northwestern Medical Center should she ever need it.

She had her study transferred to Seattle, which the Chief had no objections about. Her house hadn't sold yet, but the real estate agent assured her that with the school district's improved test scores and the summer season coming up, it would see in no time. However, she didn't really care about that. She was only focused on getting her and her children packed to move back to Seattle. Everyone came through to help her, Rhaellae got her a house in Seattle and had everything, but the necessities moved, Sansa took care of Tom and Harriet while Arya went through the motions, and Tomson offered to move her in once she got to Seattle. She had people, people that loved her, and that was worth more than its weight in gold.

"Do you need any help with anything, I'd be more than happy to take some time off work, help you and the kids get settled," Sansa offered.

"As much as I'd love for you to come to Seattle, your life is here. I couldn't ask you to leave your family, your friends, your job; it'd be too much."

"Willas and I have wanted a change. We've talked with your chief," Sansa looked at Arya with a smile on her face, like she had been hiding the best Halloween candy and was bragging over its secret location, "And he offered us positions as well as the ability to run clinical trials. Me and Willas haven't decided, we wanted to run it by you first."

Before Sansa could finish her sentence Arya engulfed her in a tight hug, "Thank you," she whispered into her friends ear, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"I knew you would never dare to ask," Sansa said.

"Seriously, I can't believe you and Willas are willing to do this, for me," she croaked out in disbelief.

"You're our best friend, Arya, you're practically family. Gendry and Hannah were epic, epically epic, but you and him were like a song, perfectly melodic. You brought out the best in each other; he was a different man when he met you. You made him that way."

"I still couldn't save him, I couldn't save either of them."

"He died doing what he loved, Arya," she grabbed her hand tightly, "He died being a hero and I don't know what better way there is to go."

"He was in pain," Arya sighed, "I treated him. He was in pain. And to think that maybe he knew who he was, who I was, and I didn't recognize him. He died thinking he was alone. How do I even compete with Hannah?"

"Hannah never got him to put Halloween decorations up on the roof, he always claimed it was too dangerous to be up there, but he did it for you. He started learning about how to do black women's hair, even got lessons from that nurse in peds, Keisha I think, so that he could help you with Harriet. He learned all the lyrics to your favorite Christmas songs so he could go caroling with you. He loved you, deeply and purely. It was a different love than his wife Hannah for sure, but it was true just the same."

"Thank you."

"Now, let's get you packed," Sansa sincerely smiled, "We have an adventure to go on."

Arya chuckled a bit, "You don't know what you're getting yourself into," she warned.

"I've always been one to enjoy the unexpected."

_Sansa walked into her house a little past 8:00 p.m. looking like death had just knocked on her door. Her hair was stuck to her forehead while the minimal makeup she had managed to put on was smudged underneath her eyes._

"_You look like you've had a hell of a day," Willas joked._

"_Seven hour surgery," she annunciated each word, "It was supposed to be an hour. I haven't eaten in days," she exaggerated._

"_Come on, let's get you feed."_

"_Dr. Clemens," she cooed, "What do you have planned for me?"_

"_Oh nothing too extravagant, just a nice little dinner your husband prepared for you while he dotingly waited for you to finish your surgery."_

_Sansa looked at him with a knowing smile on her face, "I have got to stop giving the nurses your number."_

"_You love it when I surprise you." He attacked her from behind, grabbing her by the waist and nestling kisses into her neck._

"_Fine," she laughed as he started to tickle her, "Yes, I love them. Yes, your surprises," she couldn't contain her laughter._

"_Good," he seemed satisfied, "Now let's sit and eat. Alyssa's already in bed so we're free for the entire evening," he sarcastically stated._

"_Ah yes, the old ball and chain," Sansa joked, "To think I love that with all my life."_

"_Me too. What happened to us? When did we become so weak that we'd let an eleven year old dictate our decisions?"_

"_She doesn't dictate mine," Sansa smirked, "She has you wrapped around her little finger."_

"_I do not spoil her," Willas got defensive, "I just give her everything she wants whenever she wants it."_

"_Well you're about to disappoint her ten-fold."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_Arya is moving back to Seattle."_

"_Oh," Willas mumbled, "That's too bad. How's she been since?"_

"_She's handling it as best she can, she doesn't like to talk about it much, not like I blame her. I don't like thinking about it either."_

_Willas looked at her solemnly, "He was my best friend, Sansa." The statement was simple and slightly devoid of emotion, but Sansa knew it took everything for Willas to say it. He was never one to wear his heart on his sleeve, half the time people thought he was this cold-giant of a man who only scoffed at passersby and showed happiness when his favorite team scored. He was a simple man, but that didn't mean he didn't love or feel deeply._

"_I know babe," she said, "But I've been thinking, what if we leave Chicago? My family isn't from here and neither is yours. It may be hard for Alyssa to adjust, but she's a resilient kid, she'll be able to handle it. There's just so much we've lost her, a fresh start may be exactly what we need."_

"_And where do you suggest we go?"_

_She looked at him with a dumbfounded look, she loved her husband dearly but he could truly be dense sometimes, "To Seattle of course," she groaned._

_He spoke with his mouth full of food, "I'm not sure if we should, wouldn't that be overstepping?"_

"_Arya is family. Gendry was family. Those kids are practically ours. It just doesn't seem right that they're moving away while we stay here and what? Wallow in self-pity over our dead friends and forget that Arya and Tom and Harriet ever existed."_

"_Sansa, you know you'd never forget them."_

"_I know, but things wouldn't be the same. Sure we'll call each other or promise to stay in touch, but those are never more than empty promises and a half-assed attempt to make saying goodbye less painful. We're adults, fuck we're surgeons, we're probably the busiest people on the planet. But you know the old adage, 'out of sight out of mind'; I mean look at her and her ex-husband. They hadn't seen each other in years and they have a kid together."_

"_Was he the guy washing dishes with her at the memorial at her place?"_

"_Yes," Sansa scoffed._

"_Good looking fellow," he said under his breath._

"_Now is not the time for you to recruit for your new best friend," Sansa practically yelled, she was being very vulnerable right now and Willas seemed to either be ignoring it or was actually ignorant of it._

"_I'm not saying no to going to Seattle," he broke the tension, "It sounds like it could be fun and it would allow us to be there for Arya and the kids. But there are logistics to figure out."_

"_I understand that, I'm not saying we need to go either," Sansa added, "I simply wanted to lay the idea out on the table."_

"_You know you could lay something else out on the table," he eyed her devilishly._

"_You're kidding right? You actually want me right now? Looking like," she waived her hand up and down her entire body accentuating her sweaty hair and terrible outfit._

"_I always want you." He got up from his chair and picked her up, straddling her legs around his waist. With one hand he knocked what he could off the table, the broken plates could be replaced, but right now, he yearned for his wife._

Today was the day they were leaving for Seattle, a sense of urgency ran through her as well as nerves. She had said goodbye to everyone at the hospital, Jo Ann and Cassandra were the hardest by far. But she'd be lying if she said she wasn't ready for this. She needed to be back there, to be around family again. In some sick sort of way, the doctors at Seattle Grace Mercy West were so well-versed in tragedy, Arya wondered if her husband dying would even count in the top ten of the worst things that had happened to them.

"Teeth brushed," she asked Tom as she handed him his backpack filled with books and other things to keep him entertained on the plane.

"Yep," he smiled.

"Great. I'm gonna get your sister and then we can get going, okay?" He nodded in agreement and within five minutes the three of them were out the door. If she weren't in such a rush she would've taken more time to reminisce, this would be the last time she'd be in this house. The last time she'd be where Gendry lived. But she didn't have time to look back, she was already running late for the next part of her life and it never does anyone any good to dwell on the past.

They were standing in line at the gate, waiting to board the plane. Tom yawned obviously tired from being forced out of bed at 5:00 a.m. so they could catch their flight. Arya was positive that he'd fall asleep on the plane.

"Beautiful family you've got there," an older woman behind her commented.

"Oh," Arya was a bit startled, "Thank you."

She looked down at Tom, grabbing his hand, "You ready?" She asked.

"Let's go home, mom."

And the three of them boarded the plane ready for whatever the future has in store for them. For the first time in a long time, Arya felt hope again.


End file.
